Breaking free
by Timeloopy
Summary: Kate's in prison and Jack's imprisoned by his failed marriage. Sawyer's been appointed Kate's attorney and he turns to his old friend Jack for help. AU. Primarily Jate with a minor suliet subplot. Not a reset fiction - just plain old AU all the way.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm telling you Jack. She's hot."

"She blew up her step-father, man. Besides, you think everybody's hot since you found out Jules is pregnant." Jack drained the last of his beer and set it on the coffee table with a smirk. "James 'Sawyer' Ford – family man."

The man beside him snorted and snatched the empty bottles off the coffee table.

"You tell Juliet that I said Kate Austin is hot and I'll have to kill you. All I'm saying is that if you met her, you'd believe her story too. Guy had it coming to him." Sawyer dropped the bottles into the trash and returned to the couch with two more beers. He handed one to Jack.

"You have to believe her, Sawyer. It's your job."

"It's not my job to believe her – it's just my job to defend her. To tell you the truth, when they first gave me the file I had her figured for some cracked out teenager who got sick of her stepfather showing up in her room of a night. But that ain't it."

Jack smiled. Sawyer had applied a lot of polish to his accent over the years to become the smooth-talking L.A. defense attorney who turned juries to mush in his hands. But get him away from the courtroom and put a few beers in him and he was the same guy that Jack had roomed with while he was in medical school. Sawyer had pulled the ad for a roommate off the board at the medical school even though he was barely beginning his undergrad. His scholarship didn't cover room and board.

Against his better judgment, Jack had taken him as a roommate and then spent the next four years battling to collect his share of the rent and utilities. He always paid eventually but it generally followed a weekend of cards or a pool tournament or one of those weekends when Sawyer just disappeared altogether. That was Sawyer – big chunks of money that flowed through his fingers like water and then dead broke the rest of the time.

They'd fought over girls and money and come to blows more than once. But all these years later they had a bond that ran almost as deep as blood – brothers of a sort. And at the moment, Sawyer's fear of commitment had him lusting after anything in a skirt or in this case – a pair of orange coveralls. And since he had no intention of acting on it, he kept throwing them at Jack hoping for a vicarious thrill.

"You didn't really call me over here to talk about your new favorite murderer did you?" Jack said trying to change the subject.

"She's perfect for you, Jack. You never have any fun since Sarah left. Live a little."

"She's in jail, Sawyer. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go on a blind date with your latest discovery. I saw the ring box in the kitchen. You gonna ask her or you still chicken?"

"She's always said she doesn't care about getting married. That she's perfectly happy with how things are. But she's gotta want to get married doesn't she? I mean, with the baby and all."

"Why are you asking me? I'm not exactly the expert on marriage," Jack said wryly wondering why he'd thought he'd prefer this discussion to the other one.

"Sarah was a tramp. Hell, she came onto me at your wedding reception. I just didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't want to hear it."

"Take her up on it?" Jack said tensing. His confidence had been destroyed by his cheating wife and Sawyer did seem to appeal to the women he dated.

Hell, when he'd introduced Juliet to Sawyer it had been as his date. But some time during the party, he'd gotten distracted trying to get information about Sarah out of a mutual friend. The next thing he'd known Juliet had been telling him she didn't think he was ready to date and would he be terribly hurt if Sawyer gave her a ride home. Women.

Sawyer shook his head.

"I wouldn't do that to you, man. She was your wife."

"Like you've never slept with anyone's wife. Do you know who she's seeing now?"

Sawyer ignored the jab.

"No. And if I did I wouldn't tell you. Jack, you gotta let that go and move on. I'm telling you - this Kate chick is hot. If I didn't have what I have waiting on me at home. . ."

"I get the idea. I'll tell Juliet what a sacrifice you're making next time I see her."

"Don't you dare. Did you look at the ring? You think it's okay?"

"I didn't open the box, no. I'm sure you bought her the biggest gaudiest ring you could afford though."

Sawyer looked hurt now though he masked it with a snarl.

"Because deep down you still think I'm still just some punk-ass redneck from the sticks, is that it Jack?"

"Of course not," Jack heaved a sigh. "Bring the ring and I'll take a look. Not that I know any more than you do about rings."

Sawyer came back from the kitchen with the green velvet box and tossed it to Jack who snatched it from the air and opened it. He let out a low whistle.

"Tacky?" Sawyer asked uneasily.

"Classic solitaire – can't go wrong with that. . unless. . ."

"Unless what?"

"What did her first engagement ring look like?" Jack asked.

"Well, damn. How do I know? All I know is she said she threw the damn thing under a bus – you wouldn't think it but she has sort of a temper." Sawyer caught the ring box when Jack tossed it back. "You think I should find out?"

"Ask her sister if she thinks she'll like it. You said she tells her sister everything," Jack pointed out.

"Good idea! I'll run by Rachel's on my way home from work tomorrow." Sawyer walked to the rack by the door and slid the ring box into the pocket of his black leather jacket. "So, enough about that. Will you even consider that Kate Austin might be innocent or at least justified?"

"I thought you were pushing the hot angle? What difference does it make what I think of your client's innocenc? It's not like I'm on the jury."

Sawyer took a deep breath and sat down beside him on the couch.

"She's up for arraignment – I think I can get her out on bond – with one of those bracelet things but she doesn't have a place to stay."

"So? She goes to a halfway house or something. Or she stays in jail." Jack narrowed his eyes as Sawyer picked up his beer from the table and drained the rest.

"If you saw her, you'd know that would never work. She's fidgety. Flighty. A flight risk. And somebody'd probably have their way with her if she went to a halfway house."

"Have their way with her?" Jack's mouth twitched. "Besides her lawyer you mean."

"I'm with Juliet." Sawyer waved his hand. "I talk big but I ain't interested in anybody but her. This Kate chick needs a place to stay – with someone responsible – someone who won't take advantage of the situation. Someone with a good reputation."

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" Jack said wryly.

"You're above reproach, Jack. And you've got four bedrooms in this place – what the hell do you do with all those extra bedrooms?"

"Well, I keep one of them empty so my idiot of a best friend has somewhere to stay when he pisses his girlfriend off."

"Ha. Ha. Ha. I haven't had to crash at your place in months."

"Since Juliet caught you staring at that waitress's ass at my birthday party. Yeah, that was weeks ago."

"It was months ago. And I wasn't staring at her ass. I didn't even have my glasses."

Jack cracked up thinking that was probably exactly how he'd explained it to Juliet too. And he'd shown up here looking like a kicked puppy with no idea in the world why Juliet was steaming.

"I am not taking your client in as a boarder."

"I don't want you to take her in as a boarder. I want you to take her in as an old friend."

"Being your old friend doesn't mean I have to start taking in your clients."

"I don't mean as my old friend. I might need you to fudge the truth just a hair. Say that you're her old friend."

"That's ludicrous, Sawyer. And illegal. You're the lawyer – you could be disbarred if you ask people to perjure themselves."

"You planning to turn me in?"

"No. But I don't plan to commit perjury either. Not for some girl I've never even met."

"So meet her."

"Meet her."

"Yeah, it ain't like you got anything else to do on your day off. You live like a hermit except for that hospital."

"No."

"Come on, Jack."

"No."

"Fine. I know who Sarah's seeing."

"And you haven't told me?"

"As your friend, I shouldn't tell you. But as Kate's lawyer, I'm willing to make a bargain. You meet the girl. Listen to her story. Just listen to her story and I'll tell you who Sarah's seeing."

"And if I still don't want to be her guardian or whatever? You'll still tell me who it is."

"I'll still tell you who it is. If you want to know and you should really think about that, Jack. What good is knowing going to do you? She ain't coming back."

"So, I meet your client and hear her out and you tell me the guy's name."

"Deal," Sawyer said extending his hand.

"Deal," Jack said, shaking.

"Can we finish watching the ballgame now?" Jack said settling back on the sofa with his beer in hand.

"Oh yeah. There's no way in hell the Sox are going to win the series," Sawyer said picking up the remote and adjusting the volume.

"It's their year," Jack said. "That curse junk is a load of crap."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack rolled over and hit the snooze button on his alarm clock, then remembered that it was his day off and yanked the cord from the wall instead. He'd had a little too much – okay, a lot too much - to drink last night and he was nowhere near ready to face the day.

Two hours later, he slammed his hand down on the snooze button again only to realize that the insistent beeping was coming from his cell phone. He pulled a pillow over his head and waited for it to stop. Unfortunately, it was only seconds after it stopped that it began to beep again. Did the hospital not understand the concept of off-day? No, of course it didn't. He sighed and picked up the phone and pulled it under the pillow to meet his ear.

"Shepherd," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

"Jack, you're not up yet?" It was Sawyer. One of Sawyer's many sins of which Jack could make a list longer than his arm was that he was a morning person.

"What time is it?" Jack said, sitting up in the king-sized mahogany four-poster bed that he'd bought after Sarah moved out. He hadn't been able to face sleeping alone in the bed they'd shared for so long. Especially not when he started wondering whether she'd ever slept there with anyone else while he was gone to work.

"You said you'd meet her today. What time do you want me to pick you up?" Sawyer continued, ignoring the question.

Jack rubbed his eyes and peered at the small screen on his cell phone. 8:15 a.m. Of course, he normally got up at 6 or so but still.

"Meet who?"

"My client. Kate Austin. The arraignment is tomorrow and you said you'd meet her today and hear her out. Don't tell me you forgot. I told you Thursday – it is your off day, right?"

Actually, Jack had forgotten. Not only his agreement to meet the infamous Kate Austin but pretty much everything else. That's what a date with a bottle of good scotch would do for you. Although, he supposed after a while he hadn't really cared whether it was even good scotch. Damn. He had a hangover but he knew Sawyer wouldn't take that as an excuse. Sawyer had gone through four years of undergrad in pretty much a constant state of hangover and he'd graduated Cum Laude.

"Is there a dress code?" Jack finally said into the phone realizing that Sawyer was waiting for an answer.

"Nah, just leave any sharp objects at home – they may take your belt. Whatever you usually wear on your day off should be fine. See you in an hour."

Jack sighed as he snapped the phone shut. He wondered for a minute whether Sawyer even really knew who Sarah was seeing, but he pushed it aside. He'd beat the hell out of Sawyer if he'd wasted his off day on this wild goose chase for nothing. How long could it take to hear the girl's story out anyway? An hour? Maybe two? Then Sawyer would tell him the guy's name and he could hunt him down.

He tried not to think about what he'd do when he found him or what good it would do to know. All he knew was that not knowing was eating him up inside.

***

"That was between us," Juliet said as she stood in front of the full length mirror that was attached to the back of the bathroom door. She sucked in her stomach as she held the black skirt in place around her hips. "Zip me, would you?"

Sawyer approached and tugged at the zipper which had no intention of making it all the way to the top. Juliet took another breath and sucked her stomach in further.

"Are you sure you ought to do that? I mean, I don't want to squish the little guy or something."

"Zip the damn skirt, James. I have a presentation to the budget committee today," Juliet said between clinched teeth as Sawyer forced the zipper almost to the top. "I wouldn't have told you who I saw Sarah with if I'd known you were going to blab it to Jack. I thought we agreed that Jack would just blow it completely out of proportion if he knew."

"It's zipped," Sawyer said, lying. "And I haven't told him yet. I just offered to tell him if he'd help me out with this new client of mine."

"The one that won't do anything you say and insists on an innocent plea at the same time she tells you that she really did what they say? The one who fired her last four attorneys because they tried to tell her that running for four years was pretty much the definition of a flight risk. That client?" Juliet asked raising an eyebrow and twisting to investigate the back of the skirt. "It's not zipped."

"Well, it's as zipped as it's going to get until Algy gets here. This client is going to make my career. The press already has her convicted and if I can get a jury to acquit I'll be a rockstar. I might even make partner."

Juliet finally admitted defeat on the stubborn zipper and traded the short suit jacket she'd planned to wear for a longer blazer from her closet. "You'll never even make it to the trial. She'll fly mad and fire you like she did all the others. She's nuts," Juliet said dismissively.

"That's where Jack comes in," Sawyer said, running his arms around Juliet's waist from behind and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Knock 'em dead Blondie. You'll have those funding execs eating out of your hand."

Juliet returned the kiss and disentangled herself as she headed out the door. "Good luck, Mr. Ford. I love you dearly but I have a feeling you're going to need all the luck you can get on this one. And by the way, why do keep calling the baby Algy?"

"Oh. . .old rhyme my mama used to tell me when I was a kid. Algy met a bear. The bear was bulgy. The bulge was Algy."

Juliet glared at him. "I'm not bulgy. I'm not even showing , yet." She ran her hands over her stomach where there was only the slightest of bulges.

Sawyer kissed her cheek as he maneuvered past her on his way out the door. He patted her tummy. "Take good care of Algy," he said swallowing a chuckle as he headed for the front door. He was pretty sure he'd pay for that one later but he couldn't resist.

***

Sawyer pulled his or technically Juliet's silver Mercedes Benz up in front of Jack's house after dropping her off at work. He had just taken the keys from the ignition when Jack appear on his front porch wearing dark glasses and a brown leather bomber jacket that had seen much better days.

Okay, maybe what you normally wear on your day off isn't such a good idea after all, Sawyer thought as Jack made his way to the car.

"How long is this going to take?" Jack asked as he sank into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

"Good morning to you too, Jack. I know Sarah didn't get all your clothes in the divorce because I was your attorney. Where'd you find that jacket? 1989?"

"You think we could go one day without you telling me how stupid I was to trust Sarah? Since I'm doing you a favor?"

"Did you at least wake up next to something warm that you found where ever you found that hangover?" Sawyer asked, reaching into his glove compartment and tossing Jack a small unlabeled flask.

"Hair of the dog?" Jack questioned, examining the object he now held.

"Juliet's hangover cure, actually. It tastes like shit but it works." Sawyer said. He continued his line of thought. "A blonde maybe? Or a redhead. . .redhead's are always nice."

"Have you proposed yet?" Jack said, changing the subject as he choked down the contents of the flask. Sawyer was right. It did taste like shit.

Sawyer sighed, defeated. "I was going to. I did go by to see Rachel and she says Juliet's first husband gave her a Sapphire engagement ring. . .and of course she reminded me that Juliet threw it under a bus after the divorce while declaring that she was never getting married again. Although she did say that she thought Juliet would like the one I bought, IF she was ready to marry again. So now I don't know what to do. . .I mean. . .if she's never going to marry again, what's the point of asking?"

Jack swallowed the last of the flask and looked at Sawyer incredulously.

"Are you serious? You've been together for three years – since right after Sarah and I split up. I can't imagine why but she adores you. Just ask her."

"But what if she says no?"

"Then you're no worse off than you are right now. You know how you're always telling me Sarah isn't coming back? Well, Juliet isn't going anywhere. "

"I don't know. Why mess with a good thing, right?" Sawyer said.

"Chickenshit," Jack muttered.

"Maybe so, but at least I got somebody. " Sawyer turned the car into the lot of the building where Kate Austin waited in her cell. "So, we're here. Time to meet your new roommate."

"I'm not letting her move in, Sawyer."

"Sure, you're not. Just wait til you see her. Then we'll talk again."

"I can't imagine anything she could say that would convince me to let a murderer live in my spare room."

"That's because you haven't seen her yet. Like I said before. . ."

"She's hot," Jack finished dryly.

Sawyer threw back his head and laughed. "Damn straight, she is. Now, leave that jacket in the car – it smells like bourbon and not in a good way."

***

Jack refused to acknowledge that Sawyer had been right. She was an attractive woman, sure. And he wasn't sure why Sawyer kept referring to her as a girl – he'd had her in his mind a kid – but the woman in front of him was all grown-up. About twenty-six maybe – although she did have a fresh face that made her look younger.

Her long chestnut curls were still damp from her shower and they hung loose past her shoulders. Her chin was defiantly tipped up and he found himself wondering whether those green eyes ever sparkled with laughter. Because at the moment they were snapping with hatred at the man she had already accused of being 'just another stupid publicity seeking lawyer'. If Sawyer took offense, you couldn't tell it. He'd simply excused himself from the interview room to give Kate time to catch up with 'her old friend, Jack'.

Jack should have left, he supposed. But there was something about the set of her shoulders that looked simultaneously vulnerable and like she could take on the world. And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to hear more about this beautiful woman that was sitting across from him. If she would just open her mouth and start talking - at the moment she was just glaring at him in silence.

"So," Jack began nervously, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt. "Do you sew?"

Where the hell did that come from? She must have wondered too, because after a moment of confusion she burst into laughter. He couldn't help but laugh with her.

As Sawyer peeked through the window and saw the two of them lost in peals of laughter, a smile slid across his face. This was going to work. He just knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: I almost hate to post this one since I was trying to keep things light. But Sawyer's gone to a lot of trouble in this story to get Jack to hear Kate's story so I had to let her tell it eventually. And Kate's story is just dark no matter how you try to tell it. Hopefully, there are enough bright points sprinkled in to make it go down a little easier. **_

***

When they stopped laughing, Jack noticed that Kate's eyes did indeed sparkle when she smiled.

"I made the curtains in my apartment," she said when she could breathe again. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" Jack asked.

"Sew." Kate chuckled again. "Do you sew?"

"Oh, well sort of. I'm a surgeon."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "What is a surgeon doing down here on a beautiful Thursday morning? Shouldn't you be playing golf or something?"

"Sawyer said you needed a friend. He thinks I'm short on friends so I guess he thought we should meet."

"What kind of friend brings you to a prison to meet women?" Kate said, rolling her eyes.

"It's not," Jack stammered a little until he saw the green eyes twinkle again and knew she was playing him every bit as effectively as Sawyer had to get him down here. "He says you need a place to stay and he knew I had extra room."

"I won't sleep with you," Kate said bluntly.

"I didn't ask you to," Jack retorted.

"So, what's the catch? Even my own father won't let me be released into his custody – why would you?"

"Sawyer's an old friend."

"Yeah, that's one strike against you already, Jack," she said playfully.

"Wait, shouldn't you be the one convincing me to let you stay at my place?" Jack returned.

Kate settled back into her chair and surveyed the man across from her. His eyes were a tad bloodshot but they were friendly and kind. He wore his hair cropped short and there was just a touch of gray – she tried to judge his age and came up with late thirties – maybe early forties.

The polo shirt he wore was a little wrinkled like maybe he'd pulled it out of the laundry basket without folding it first and she remembered that he had filled out the jeans he was wearing very nicely. In fact, she'd been preoccupied with the fit of his jeans when Sawyer had been babbling on about the arraignment. And 'her old friend, Jack' was a surgeon – just like Tom. That brought her up short. She still felt guilty about what had happened to Tom.

She realized he was waiting for an answer.

"I want out of here. But I'm afraid to hope it'll work. I'm afraid to trust anyone because my own mother is testifying against me. Did he tell you that? My own mother." Her eyes had clouded and a tear threatened to spill over but she blinked it away.

Jack impulsively reached across the table and took her hand.

"Hey, I said I'd hear your side of the story and then decide. So, tell me your side."

"Seriously?" she asked searching his face to see what his angle was.

"I agreed to hear you out."

"Why?" She pulled her hand away.

"Why?"

"Everybody's got an angle, Jack. In my experience, it pays to know why people are helping you out."

Jack hesitated. Then, remembering that it was him doing her the favor, he decided to go with the truth.

"He has some information I want."

Kate actually relaxed and Jack wondered what her life had been like that she felt more comfortable with bribery than she did with old friends helping each other out.

"What information?"

"My wife left me for another guy. He knows who the guy is and he said if I'd hear you out he'd tell me."

"If he's such a good friend, why doesn't he just tell you?"

Jack hesitated again. This time the truth was more uncomfortable than a lie but he decided to plunge in anyway. After all, who was she to judge?

"He thinks I need to move on and forget about her. He may even be right. She threatened to get a restraining order if I don't leave her alone."

Kate bit her lip and studied him for a moment. Jack looked away under her scrutiny, but then she cleared her throat, seeming to make a decision.

"I won't sleep with you," she repeated.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole."

Kate laughed and Jack's smile made it fairly clear that he was lying.

"And I won't owe you anything. No asking me to take out your ex-wife or something. I'm not a killer – at least I don't see myself that way – it was a unique situation."

"You can't possibly think I was planning to exchange room and board for a contract killing." Jack said incredulously.

"People are crazy," Kate pointed out.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"And when the trial is over and I get on my feet, I'll pay you for the room and board."

"That's not necessary," Jack said.

"Actually, it is. I really don't like to owe anyone anything. Ever."

"You won't owe me a thing," Jack agreed. "And you can pay me whatever you think is fair, IF I decide to let you stay. You still haven't told me your story."

Kate's gaze had been fairly direct throughout their conversation but now it wandered to a small window set high in the wall where the faintest trace of sunlight beamed in.

"I had a great childhood for a while. My mom didn't pay me much attention but my dad was great. He liked to hunt and fish and he'd take me with him. It was like a religion to him – the outdoors. I thought we were happy."

"But then, my parents split up and my dad moved away. I hardly even saw him after that. My mom remarried this guy – Wayne – he was a drunk, a jerk. He used to beat my mama and then she'd go to work and tell them that she slipped in the kitchen or that she was in an accident. But the car would be fine and she never slipped. You know?"

Jack nodded in understanding.

"I used to call my dad and beg him to come get me – to let me come live with him, but he'd just tell me everything was going to be alright. That if I'd just hang in there, everything would be alright. Except it wasn't alright – all I could think of was getting away from there. Wayne would get drunk and beat my mother and heaven knows what else. And I'd ask why we stayed and she'd say that she loved him."

" 'We can't help who we love,' she'd say but even as a kid that seemed like a crock of shit to me. Then eventually, he got tired of beating on my mama and he started knocking me around. So I didn't come home much. I studied a lot and I got a part-time job as soon as I was old enough and I made sure I was never in that house."

She was leaving out pieces. Jack could see her mentally editing and at first he thought maybe it was to make herself sound better. But as she continued to speak, he realized that she was leaving out the pieces she couldn't bear to say out loud.

"I got a job in a bar, because the tips were good. And I knew how to wait tables because I'd practically been raised in that diner where my mom worked. I was cute and I'd flirt a little because it made the tips better. It wasn't his bar – the one where he used to go – I'd have never picked that one, but I guess he got wind of me working there because one night he shows up. He shows up and he calls me a whore and he said," she stopped now, her voice was strained and the color had left her face. "He said awful things. Horrible things. And he asked me why I didn't just come home with him and. . ."

She broke off now and took a moment to collect herself. When she spoke again, her voice was monotone – devoid of emotion.

"So, I quit the job and went to work at the library. There was no way in hell that Wayne was going to darken the door of a library. I started making this scrapbook for my dad, Sam Austin – my real dad - and I called one of his buddies to get pictures of him from his tours overseas – he was military. Anyway, he spent time in Korea. He spent a long time in Korea the whole year before I was born."

Jack reached across the table to take her hand again but she jerked it away.

"Wayne was my father. Not my stepfather. He was – and he said – and I couldn't," she could no longer finish a sentence. Her eyes stayed dry as though these tears had been cried out long ago.

"He beat the hell out of my mother. She got a concussion and that's when I realized that it was my fault. She was with him because of me – she left Sam Austin because of me. So I thought I could save her. I thought if I could get rid of him and leave her with a little bit of money maybe she'd be okay. Maybe, I could save her before he killed her."

"I'm not a killer, Jack," she said dully. "I was just protecting my mother. I was just trying to fix it."

She had no idea how very much Jack could relate to what she'd just said.

***

Jack got into the car beside Sawyer an hour later.

"She can stay."

"You sure? I'd hate for her to murder you in your bed or something."

"It's not funny, Sawyer. I said she can stay –now, drop it."

Sawyer looked at him uneasily.

"Jack, I know I said you should help her out but she did kill a man. I mean, you shouldn't trust her. Not completely. You're not always the best judge of character."

"I'm friends with you aren't I?" Jack countered.

"My point, exactly," Sawyer sighed as he started the car. "Look, just don't let things get out of hand is all I'm saying. Don't sleep with her."

"You're the one that went on and on about how hot she was. Besides, why does everybody think I want to sleep with her? She's a nice person. She's had a rough life and I happen to think she deserves a second chance. I'm not going to maul her the minute she steps through my door. I'm not you."

Sawyer opened the console and pulled out one of the cigarettes he hid there. He rolled it between his fingers then seemed to change his mind about lighting it. He dropped it back in the console.

"Juliet's receptionist. Hannah. She's a nice girl – beautiful too – long blonde hair, long legs, a really nice set of," Sawyer removed one of his hands from the steering wheel to gesture.

"I don't want to be set up with Juliet's receptionist. I'm not going to sleep with your client. Relax and drive. Let's talk about sports."

Sawyer gave Jack a sidelong look then shrugged. "You know the points spread on the Lakers game next week?"

"You don't gamble any more."

"Doesn't mean we can't talk about it, does it? Juliet doesn't let me gamble or chase women – and you won't even let me talk about it – I've got to get a better class of people to spend my time with."

"Have you proposed yet?" Jack said with a grin. Sawyer groaned.

Jack forgot to ask Sawyer about the man Sarah had been seeing. And Sawyer decided that until he brought it up, it was best to leave well enough alone.

***

"Lie," Juliet said bluntly as she dipped the scorched bits out of the chili.

"I can't lie to him. He's my best friend," Sawyer said, eyeing the chili warily. He knew he should have brought take-out. If he'd brought the take-out, she'd have chunked the chili and told him how sweet it was for him to bring dinner. But now that he was standing here, she'd get her feelings hurt if he brought up the take-out now.

"You're a lawyer. You practically lie for a living," Juliet said as she pulled out a second pot and transferred the chili to that. Sawyer tried to think of some way out of eating it without triggering the pregnancy hormones that seemed to come crashing in at the most inopportune times. See her cry or eat the damn chili – he didn't suppose he really had a choice.

"He may not even ask, right?" Sawyer said, opening the cabinet to pull down the bowls. Tomorrow, he'd just have to be sure to get home before she did so he could make dinner. How could a woman who was so brilliant at so many things be such a lousy cook? It boggled his mind.

"He'll ask," Juliet replied. "This is Jack we're talking about. I can't believe you'd even consider telling him who it is. He's going to be crushed."

"Son of a bitch," Sawyer said dismally. Juliet thought he was talking about Jack's soon-to-be broken heart but he was actually just thinking about eating the chili.

***

AN: So, what do you think? Does it play okay? I know Kate's never laid her story out for anyone on the show but I thought this might be how she'd tell it.


	4. Chapter 4

"What are you doing here?" Kate blurted when Sawyer pulled open the mahogany door to Jack's brick two-story.

"Letting you in. You know, you could at least try to be grateful."

She rolled her eyes at him as the officer led her inside and began explaining to her how the anklet worked and what range she had.

Her mind roamed as she surveyed her surroundings. The house was nice – the décor somewhat minimalist except for the electronics. A guy thing she supposed. The living room had a stucco fireplace with a narrow hearth. She thought those must be gas logs inside it since it seemed unlikely that a busy surgeon would spend much time chopping wood.

There was a beige sectional sofa with clean lines and a black lacquered coffee table with matching end tables. There were no flowers or greenery and the floors were gleaming dark hardwood that looked like you could eat off of them. It was a gorgeous place but somehow it looked lonely – the furniture had obviously been arranged by a decorator but it looked incomplete somehow – like someone had taken chunks out and put nothing back in their place.

The walls were a nice shade of celery green and the curtains were pale yellow and these too had very clean lines. While the office spoke, she looked over the woman's shoulder at the dining area – where incongruously sat a long Rubbermaid table with metal legs such as one found at Home Depot. She remembered sitting at a Sunday School class that had those type tables as she debated whether any of Jesus' apostles wore red tunics.

There were three chairs shoved around the table – two that looked like they might have come from someone's attic or a garage sale – yellow vinyl – and the third was a metal folding chair again reminiscent of her third grade Sunday School class. She remembered either Jack or Sawyer mentioning that Jack was divorced so she decided his wife must have taken what she wanted of the furniture. She wondered briefly why the wife hadn't taken the house or maybe she'd tried and Jack had the superior lawyer.

A staircase in the entryway led upward to what Kate supposed were the bedrooms. It was a large house with a spacious open living area. There must be a kitchen down here too and Kate found herself oddly curious about it's décor although decorating wasn't anything she'd ever concerned herself with overly much. Even during her brief marriage, there had never been enough money to do much decorating.

The staircase itself was appealing. It broke somewhat from the clean look that had been foisted upon the place – there were hardwood stairs accented by gleaming white risers. The banister was highly polished dark mahogany and it curled out at the bottom creating what was almost a stage. Kate could picture small children tumbling over each other down that staircase on Christmas morning, rough and tumble little boys sliding down when they thought no one was looking, and in some distant future a young girl in a prom dress descending with a nervous smile. It was that kind of staircase.

She smiled a little as she noticed that the current use of the picturesque staircase was as a bookshelf. There were stacks of books on the wider edges of the lower stairs and she winced a little at the sight of dry cleaner bags along the banister – the metal hangers probably digging in and leaving marks. If she'd needed confirmation that no woman lived here, it was all too evident.

She realized the officer was reaching the end of her description and instructions and suddenly she focused in on the last sentence that had been spoken.

"Wait, there's nothing within a one block radius of this place except more houses," she interjected.

"There's a pool out back and that flat-screen over there wouldn't even fit in my apartment," the cop returned. "I don't think you're going to be in any hardship."

"But what if I need something at the store," she asked. "And they said I could look for work. What kind of work is there to do around here?"

The dark-haired female cop glanced around the room again and her smirk made it clear what she thought Kate planned to do to earn her keep.

Kate whirled to her lawyer.

"This was a mistake."

"You'd rather stay in jail?" Sawyer said, with just the faintest note of weariness in his voice.

"I. No." She finally answered.

"Then let Officer Cortez do her job so she can get out of here. Jack's doing emergency surgery on a kid who was in a motorcycle accident. Kid's in bad shape."

Kate nodded uncertainly and let Officer Cortez finish her spiel. She hit a test button to show Kate what would happen if she accidentally set off the anklet, then she radioed in to indicate that she'd delivered Kate to her new prison.

When she was gone, Kate turned to Sawyer.

"This kid – you know him?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. You sounded concerned, I guess."

"It's my fiance's nephew. Julian. He's just a kid – had no business on that dirt bike really – why do they even make those things that small?"

Kate shook her head unsure what to say.

"He's ten. The doctor at the hospital in Miami said he was paralyzed for life but Jack agreed to fly down there and take a look – give a second opinion. Juliet went with him."

"Juliet?"

"Sorry, Juliet's my fiancé. It's been a rough night. It didn't even occur to me until I got to the courthouse that I'd meant for Jack to testify at your hearing. I owe you an apology, I guess."

Kate reassessed the man in front of her. Maybe if he'd failed to arrange her release, she'd have felt more harshly about it but at the moment she had a hard time faulting her attorney for putting his family first.

"Is he going to be okay? Julian?"

Sawyer shrugged. "Still in surgery. Jack's pretty damn good. They say he can work miracles – I hope he's got at least one more in him."

He seemed lost in his own thoughts so she went to the bathroom to freshen up. It had been weeks since she'd gotten to shower in solitude and she relished the feeling of the hot water pounding against her soft skin. She searched the cabinets and found a towel and then realized that she'd have to put the clothes back on that she'd worn in since that was all she had.

There was a light knock at the door and she clutched the towel around her.

"Hey, if you're alright, I'm going to split. Juliet called and the surgery went okay but they won't know how well until he wakes up. I booked a flight but it leaves in about an hour."

"Wait," she said frantically. "I need clothes. . .and food."

"Oh," he responded through the door, still obviously distracted with his own troubles. "Plenty of clothes in the spare bedroom to tide you over. His wife was about your size – give or take. And there's a housekeeper that comes in the morning– she knows you're here – just tell her what you want in the way of groceries and she'll go get it. I'll leave some cash on the coffee table so you can order carry-out tonight if that's alright."

It occurred to her that he and Jack must have discussed all this before the latest crisis.

"Wait! How am I supposed to pay for all this? I need a job."

"Yeah, I'm working on that," he sounded like he was in a hurry to leave, but he took the time to answer her concerns. "In the meantime, I'll add it to your legal fees."

"You're working pro bono."

"The cost of a pizza ain't going to break me, sweetheart. And the cost of a sack of groceries ain't even going to come close to breaking Jack – not even with all that damn alimony he pays. Listen, not to play the sympathy card here but my fiance's pregnant and she didn't sleep at all last night after we heard about the accident so I'm kind of anxious to get to Miami and check on her. I mean, you should be fine here. You've got my card if you have any kind of emergency."

"No. You're right. I'm sure I'll be fine. I hope your nephew's okay."

"Me too." She heard his retreating footsteps and then heard the front door close.

The water was cooling in her hair and she shivered as a droplet snaked down her back inside her towel.

Right. She was here. Alone. Wait. She was here ALONE. All alone for the first time in a long time. She let out a little giggle. She whipped the towel into the air and gave a little cheer then she scrubbed at the steam that had condensed on the mirror. The face looking back at her was smiling.

***

Planes made James Ford inexplicably nervous. He wasn't scared of flying – not exactly. He was just utterly convinced that the plane was going to crash the minute he set foot in the airport. Juliet always laughed at his aversion, though not unkindly. Normally, when they flew Juliet got him nice and drunk at the airport bar so that he was relaxed when they boarded. She also kept up with his ticket and reminded him how early they needed to be at the gate to make the flight and double checked to make sure his carry-on was the right size.

Flying without Juliet was something of a nightmare. First, he forgot to print his ticket at home and had to deal with the damn kiosk. The kiosk wanted his frequent flyer card which, of course, he didn't have because Juliet kept up with it. Although, confronted with the request for the damn thing he clearly remembered her showing him the drawer by the computer where she kept it. So, it wanted a credit card and he tried three before he hit on the one he's used to purchase the ticket.

He got all the way through security and almost to the plane when the gate agent told him that his carry-on was oversized and he'd have to check it which wasn't all that hard but it was yet another hassle. And on top of that it cost him an additional fifteen bucks. He was buckled into his seat next to a guy who must have weighed 350 at the very least when they came on the speaker announcing that they were making minor repairs to the aircraft. Well, wasn't that just great.

The guy beside him had him scrunched up against the window seat – to top it all this was a smaller plane – he wasn't sure if that was better or worse. And as luck would have it a baby started to cry near the back.

That should have irritated him even more, but for some reason he smiled. It wouldn't be all that long before he'd have a baby that was bound to cry now and again. The thought made him oddly forgiving.

"You got kids?" the big guy beside him asked.

"One on the way," he answered though he usually didn't talk to strangers on planes. "My fiance's expecting our first at the end of February."

"You know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Not yet. We were going to find out but she decided she wants it to be surprise."

"So, when's the wedding?"

Sawyer turned to face his burly seatmate. He had a friendly freckled face and longish curly hair. He was young although his weight made it difficult to pinpoint his exact age.

"I don't know. I just asked her last night. She said, yes."

"Well, congratulations. Buy you a drink when the plane takes off?"

"Sure. Name's James Ford, by the way. My friends call me Sawyer," he said reaching around awkwardly to offer his hand.

The bigger man shook it.

"Hugo Reyes. My friends call me Hurley. Actually, everyone calls me Hurley except my mom. So, tell me about your fiancé."

"She's amazing," Sawyer began.

By the time they landed in Miami, Hurley knew all about Sawyer's fiancé and her injured nephew. Sawyer knew that Hurley had won the lottery and that he was utterly convinced that he was cursed – he even spent about fifteen minutes trying to convince him otherwise but eventually gave up and moved onto other subjects.

"And you say this client of yours needs a job but she's required to stay within a block of the house where she's staying," Hurley said as the two made their way toward the cart holding the luggage that was checked at the gate.

"Yeah, I'll figure something out. I always do," Sawyer said as he spotted his navy Samsonite bag on the cart and pulled it off wondering at the amount of damage one flight could do.

Hurley fished in the pockets of his Bermuda shorts and pulled out a somewhat wrinkled card.

"Call me when you get back to L.A. I might have something," Hurley said.

Sawyer looked surprised.

"I'll do that," he said, giving his new acquaintance a quick wave before he strode purposefully toward the gate trying to decide whether a taxi or a rental car would be quicker.

***

Jack pulled off his cap and stepped through the doors of the waiting room. Rachel was on her feet immediately and Juliet sensed her sister's movement and rose too, putting an arm around her. Jack offered a reassuring smile and Juliet immediately relaxed.

"Surgery went great," Jack said in a firm voice holding his cap to steady his hands. He remembered his father's words about offering hope but not promises. He hated this part – trying to reassure the family when he was anything but sure himself. Bedside manner's part of the job, his father would have said. His bedside manner was lousy so he made a concerted effort to work on it.

He held up a hand before the sisters got carried away.

"I can't promise you he'll walk again but his chances of recovering at least some movement are decent. We won't really know until he wakes up."

Rachel turned to Juliet with a question on her face.

"That's about as good as you're going to get, Rach. Now we just have to hope and pray. But if he thought there was no chance, he'd have told us. Right, Jack?"

"Right." Juliet had a natural bedside manner when it came to patients. He envied her that. As she wrapped her arms around her sister who sobbed into her shoulder in relief, Jack caught another glimpse the ring glistening in the fluorescent lights on her left ring finger.

He grinned as he turned to go check on his patient. About time the son of a bitch had finally gotten his nerve up and asked her. As his thoughts turned to his best friend, he remembered what had kept him from flying down with Juliet early this morning. Kate Austin.

And for some reason, the thought of Kate Austin made him grin even more.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack sank down into the chair beside Julian Carlson's bed to wait for the boy to wake up. He felt like he hadn't slept in days. Sawyer had called him around midnight and he had heard Juliet crying in the background.

"I need a favor, man. It's big," Sawyer had said. He must have stepped into another room because Jack heard footsteps, a door close, and then he couldn't hear Juliet's sobs.

"Is Juliet okay?" Jack asked anxiously.

"No, not really."

"The baby?"

"What? No. I mean, Juliet's physically okay but emotionally she's a mess. Julian, her only nephew was staying with his granddad in Miami – Juliet's dad. He lets him do pretty much anything he wants. Juliet and her sister don't have much to do with him but he wanted to get to know his grandson – he means well I guess. Anyway, he bought one of those little dirt bikes – a motorcycle – and apparently he's been letting the kid ride it all over his place. He's got a small orange orchard down there – it don't amount to much."

"Sawyer, you're rambling. What's the favor?"

"Right. Rambling. Kid wrecked the bike – he's hurt bad – real bad. Carlson called Rachel this morning – or was it yesterday morning now – is it after midnight?"

"Rambling again."

"Right. Sorry. Rachel got the first flight down there and when she got down there it was a lot worse than we thought – he wasn't conscious. He eventually woke up but the doctors say he's paralyzed from the chest down."

"Maybe when the swelling goes down," Jack said.

"They don't think so, Doc. They've done MRIs and x-rays and who knows what else. Juliet got the doctor on the phone and they babbled medical-speak for a while. Didn't make a damn bit of sense to me but when she hung up, Juliet was crying her eyes out."

"You want me to give them a second opinion, then?"

"I want you to fix him, Doc. Hell, that's what you do best. Fix the kid – he's – he's just a kid. Ain't right for him to be crippled up like that. He's a good kid, Jack. "

"I can't make any promises, Sawyer. It's altogether possible that what they're telling you is exactly right. They need to be prepared for that."

"But you'll go? You'll fly down and take a look at him – fix him if you can?"

"Of course," Jack said. "I'll get the first flight out in the morning."

"Thanks, man. I owe you for this - anything. You're a good friend."

"Damn straight, I am."

"Listen, I feel like a real jerk about this, but I've got court tomorrow. You mind picking Juliet up and taking her to the airport with you. I really don't like the idea of her traveling alone in the state she's in."

"I'll book us both a flight to Miami. Tell her to pack a bag and I'll run by there to get her."

"Jack. . .thanks for everything."

"I'll do what I can."

***

Now, almost twenty four hours later, Jack sat waiting to see if what he'd done was enough. He went back over the surgery in his mind. Considering the damage done, the surgery had gone about as well as he could have hoped. There had been tense moments but when he'd closed the boy up, he'd felt more than hopeful.

The little fellow stirred on the bed and Jack pushed himself to his feet. He moved over to stand by the boy's side. Julian began to whimper as he woke up.

"Where's my mom?" Julian said through tears that made him look younger than ten.

"She's out in the lobby with your Aunt Juliet. We'll move you to a room soon and they'll be waiting for you. You did great."

"I didn't do anything."

"You were very brave," Jack said, patting his shoulder. He moved to the foot of the bed and folded the blankets back looking at the small feet on the clean white sheet.

"Why are you holding your breath?" the little boy asked.

"Am I?" Jack said, letting out the breath in a chuckle. "Okay, I'm going to stick your toe and you tell me if you feel it, okay?"

Julian nodded.

Jack took a probe from the pocket of his lab coat and pricked the boy's big toe.

"Ouch," Julian said.

Jack eyed him carefully, pulled up the blanket and made a motion as though he were pricking the toe but instead stabbed the bed. Julian rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing?" the little boy demanded.

Jack pricked the other big toe.

"Ouch," Julian said. "Quit doing that."

Jack smiled in relief. He patted the boy's knee.

"Just a few more and then the nurse'll take you to see your mom, okay?"

"Okay," Julian said. Then he returned Jack's smile. Jack finished his examination and then went out to give Rachel and Juliet the good news.

***

Kate rummaged through the linen closet in the bathroom and pulled out a white terrycloth robe with a hotel insignia on the right breast pocket. She pressed it to her nose – it smelled clean. She shrugged and slipped it on, knotting the belt around her waist. If Sawyer was right about there being women's clothes somewhere in the house, it would do until she found them. And if he'd been wrong, she could wear this until she washed her own clothes.

It felt so good to be free – well, not free exactly but closer to it than she'd been in a while. The constant presence of other people had worn on her after a while. It was one thing to want company and quite another to be unable to escape from the presence of others. The quiet was heavenly. She opened the bathroom door and stepped into the upstairs hallway which was cool by comparison.

Her toes dug into the soft carpet that ran the length of this hall. It was pristine white – who in the world had white carpet? Obviously, people that didn't have any children – that was who. But it was beautiful against the dark trim. There was one door to the left of the bathroom and two to the right. The one on the left was probably the master she reasoned. So, that meant the guest bedrooms where the ex-wife's clothes might reside would be to the right.

The first room she tried looked more like an office than a bedroom. A computer screen glowed on the desk – an older model that didn't have the power saver function. She resisted the urge to cross the room and jiggle the mouse to see what he'd last been looking at. There was a sofa in here too – looked like it might make out into a bed – so worst came to worst, she could sleep here she supposed. She backed out of that room and tried the next – a weight set and treadmill filled the floor space in that one. Well, that made sense too she guessed – he looked like he worked out.

Back in the hall, she bit her lip perplexed. Okay, that meant the only bedroom was the master and she'd made it pretty clear that she didn't intend to share Jack's bed. Not that the idea was completely unpalatable, but the idea that he might have made that assumption ticked her off.

She went back to the bathroom and scooped up her clothes and the damp towels and stomped down the stairs. She spotted a door off the dining room and went through it into the kitchen which was all stainless steel and gleaming black granite countertops. That's where she spotted the stairs – the laundry room must be in the basement. But as she descended into the basement, she realized that there was almost as much space down here as there had been upstairs. At the base of the stairs, was a rec room with a pool table dead center and a wet bar to the right. Off the central area were two doors that were standing open revealing them to be the guest bedrooms she'd searched for earlier. There were sliding glass doors off the back of the rec room that showcased the pool that the officer had mentioned earlier.

Kate let out a long low whistle. When Sawyer had told her Jack had plenty of room, he hadn't been kidding. She could stay here with Jack and quite literally never see him if she didn't want to. If he was even ever home, she thought to herself.

As luck would have it, the first bedroom's closet was filled with Christmas decorations that hadn't been out of their boxes in some time if the dust was any indication. The second closet, however, revealed the promised women's clothes.

Kate sorted through them and pulled out a green cocktail dress. She grimaced. Surely, they didn't think she was going to run around in evening wear. There was also a sequined black backless gown and several other garments that had obviously been worn exactly one time and then stuffed away into this closet never to see the light of day again. She toyed with the idea of playing dress-up but the idea of someone happening along and catching her squelched that idea.

She pushed aside hanger after hanger getting more frustrated by the minute until she spotted the large Rubbermaid container on the top shelf overhead. When she managed to drag it down off the top shelf and pulled off the lid, she grinned. Pay dirt. This bin was filled with t-shirts and shorts that must have been off-season when Jack's wife had pulled her disappearing act. They were a bit on the dated side as well but Kate wasn't in a mood to be picky.

She pulled on a pair of denim shorts and an oversized t-shirt and surveyed herself in the mirror. Okay, the anklet was rather unattractive but overall, she felt more human than she had since her arrest. It was a nice room. Hidden away downstairs, it was probably where they'd had the in-laws stay when they visited. Kate rather liked it.

***

Later, Kate was settled on the couch in front of the huge plasma television munching happily on the cheese pizza that had just been delivered. She was deeply involved in the misadventures of Captain Jack Sparrow which she'd somehow managed to miss out on while she was on the run. The ringing of the telephone startled her.

"Hello," she said tentatively, when she finally located the cordless that had slid down between the cushions of the couch.

"Kate?"

"Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me. Did you get settled in okay? Sorry I couldn't be there."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks so much for letting me crash here, Jack. This place is amazing."

"It's home," Jack said affably. "Sawyer said you were worried about the logistics. Do you have everything you need?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "How's the little boy?"

"He told you about that?" Jack sounded surprised. "Julian's doing great. It'll take a while for him to heal, but it looks like there's good reason to believe he'll be running wild again before you know it."

"That's great," Kate said, her concern genuine. "Ford seemed to think you were quite capable of giving them a miracle. I'm glad he was right."

"I'm not a miracle worker, Kate. Just doing my job."

"Well, maybe. How long will you be down there?"

"Oh, I'll probably catch a flight back some time tomorrow. Depends on what's available."

"Right."

"So, I guess I'll see you then," Jack said.

"I'll be here," Kate said with a laugh. "I'm definitely not going anywhere."

"I guess not." Jack chuckled.

Jack flipped his cell closed and slid it onto the nightstand at the hotel. He fell asleep smiling.

Kate turned the phone off and returned to the Pirates of the Caribbean but after the phone call, Captain Sparrow wasn't the Jack she had on her mind.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to everyone for all the reviews and story alerts! Sorry I've gotten a little behind on this one. This chapter is dedicated to eyeon for her help working out the details. _

***

"What do you see in him?" Rachel asked in a quiet voice after Julian drifted off to sleep in the hospital bed. Until they'd know Julian was alright, they'd been wound too tight to discuss the new jewelry adorning Juliet's left hand.

"He takes what comes and makes the best of it. Even if it's a load of crap. . .he just gets out a shovel and says 'Hey, they're paying three bucks a pound for shit down at the fertilizer plant.' and he starts shoveling."

Rachel chuckled then glanced at Julian who lay sleeping to make sure she hadn't woken him.

"But he can be such a manipulative bastard. I mean, no offense, but he can." Rachel sipped her coffee as she saw Juliet smile.

"I kind of like that about him too," she said with a shrug. "I had to leave Miami after I lost my license over the whole Julian thing and when I showed up in L.A. I'd been pretty nearly blackballed. I met Jack when he was leaving the hospital after I'd gotten turned down AGAIN for a job and he asked me to a party."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "The Jack who just flew across the country to do a risky surgery on your only nephew. Why aren't you with him?"

"Jack's cute," Juliet said with a smile. She was drinking hot apple cider which had been the only other warm offering in the cafeteria. She'd given up both her morning coffee and her nightly glass of wine when she'd seen the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. But she wasn't coping all that well with it. "But Jack's . . . he sees things very black and white. When I told him why I didn't get the job in the car on the way to the party, he said there was a reason for the rules. That medical ethics were important – kept us from playing God."

"Which made you go all bristly," Rachel guessed. "What did Sawyer say when you told him?"

Juliet smiled and set down her cup. She twisted the ring on her finger – it was a tiny bit tight – her fingers were a little swollen.

"He said that you do what it takes when it comes to family. He said if you can follow the rules and get it done, you follow the rules. But if the rules get in the way, you do what it takes."

"He scares me a little," Rachel admitted.

"Yeah," Juliet said with a wink. "I kind of like that about him too. Plus, he's incredible in bed."

"Oh, well, you should have said that first," Rachel said deadpan.

Their laughter almost roused Julian so they had to tone it down.

"So, how'd you get the job then. . .you never told me that before that you got turned down."

"Sawyer talked Jack's father into giving me a chance. I think he possibly had a little dirt on Christian – Christian's the sort of guy who lives in that gray area that drives Jack crazy."

"And why would Sawyer do that? Aren't he and Jack blood brothers or some frat boy equivalent?"

"Because Sawyer's damn lucky that I give him the time of day. . .and deep down. . .he knows it."

She winked again and they laughed silently this time, their shoulders shaking. They were gasping for breath when the door opened and Sawyer walked in his eyes narrowed.

"Are you talking about me?"

"Of course not, what? You think you're the center of the universe?" Juliet said lightly as Sawyer moved to her side and bent to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for flying down. How did the arraignment go?"

"She's safely installed at Jack's place with her fancy new jewelry. Speaking of new jewelry – how's yours? Starting to chafe yet?"

What she hadn't told Rachel was that the other thing she loved about Sawyer was that underlying insecurity – that little boy underneath the devilish charm who never could really believe that anyone would love him. And while it might come across as vaguely inappropriate humor to the lookers-on she recognized that vulnerability in the question he'd just posed.

"Doesn't chafe in the least," she said holding it out and turning it so that it caught the sunlight.

He nodded toward the bed.

"So it went well? That's what you said on the phone that it went well."

"He's going to be okay," Juliet said nodding.

"Then how 'bout I sit here a while and you guys go back to your dad's and rest. You've been up for what? Forty-eight hours now?"

"I couldn't leave," Rachel began but Sawyer cut her off.

"For Juliet's sake?"

Rachel took a good look at her sister and saw the fatigue – the circles under her eyes and the sallowness of her skin.

"I guess we could go back to the house and let Dad know that things are looking better," Rachel said finally. "Let him know that he can come up here to see Julian at the hospital if he wants. I guess I shouldn't have kicked him out of here."

"Completely understandable," Sawyer said with a shrug taking Juliet's hands and pulling her to her feet. "But now that things are alright, it probably wouldn't hurt to cut him a little slack."

As soon as the door shut behind them, Sawyer sat down in the chair near the bed and clicked the television to ESPN.

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered as he realized that the Red Sox very well might win the series. Jack was going to be ecstatic.

***

By Sunday night, Jack was satisfied that his patient would be okay without him. He was sitting in his hotel room booking a flight back to L.A. while he finished off the beer that Sawyer had brought when he dropped by a little earlier.

And because Juliet had been right about Jack, he did see things in a very black and white fashion, his conscience was bothering him. He'd spoken with the accused murderer now occupying his house every day since he'd been in Miami. If his cell phone counter was correct, he'd spoken to her today for over an hour and it had seemed like only minutes.

As he clicked the button that ensured he had a seat on the flight home he scrolled back through his cell record. That just couldn't be right. He'd talked to her one, two, three. . . .seven, eight, nine times. Nine calls to a woman he barely knew. He ran his hand over his short-cropped hair and shook his head.

He wasn't interested in her like that. I mean, that would be crazy since even Sawyer thought that she'd probably be convicted and he was her attorney. A damn cocky attorney too so it worried Jack a little that Sawyer wasn't convinced he could get her off.

And that brought him back to his dilemma, why did he even care if she was convicted or not? He barely knew her. And what he knew of her was that basically she was guilty. She'd done exactly what they said.

So, he went back to flipping through the cell record as though that was going to change something. Oh hell, why deny it, he was screwed.

***

The pounding on the door woke Juliet first. She moaned and punched Sawyer in the side a little harder than necessary.

"Get the door," she mumbled without lifting her head so that it sounded to Sawyer more like "Gmm mm mm". Fortunately, he was used to sleepy Juliet-speak and the pounding on the door made her message more than clear.

As he pulled the door open, Jack was framed in the bright light of the hotel hallway.

"Is something wrong with Julian?" he asked and Juliet sat up in the bed, instantly alert at the sound of her nephew's name."

"No. Julian's fine," Jack snapped and Sawyer winced.

"So what the hell you doing waking us up at. . ."

"3:48," Juliet supplied.

"3:48 in the morning," Sawyer continued rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"That's two favors," Jack snapped, his eyes flashing. "Two favors and you still haven't told me who Sarah's seeing. Do you even know?"

Sawyer's jaw dropped.

"You want to know NOW?"

Juliet sensing trouble, scrambled out of bed and into the robe that she'd bought downstairs in the gift shop. Her packing had been a little sporadic in all the excitement.

"Jack," she began, but Jack whirled on her.

"No, Juliet. You don't get to bail him out this time. You don't get to soothe everything over and keep him out of trouble. He said if I let that woman stay in my house, he'd tell me who she was seeing. And then before he even made good on that, he drug me all the way to Miami to do him ANOTHER favor. I have the right to know."

He stopped when he noticed the hurt evident on Juliet's face.

"That's the reason you came to Miami. . .because of some quid pro quo you and Sawyer worked out?"

"What? No." Jack said, confused now.

Sawyer shook his head.

"The deal had nothing to do with him helping Julian," Sawyer said in disgust, rolling his eyes at Jack. "I was going to tell you as soon as you asked, I just hoped that maybe you wouldn't ask. You really are better off not knowing."

"Why? Why am I better off not knowing who my wife was sleeping with?"

"She's your ex-wife, Jack. EX. As in, she ain't you're wife no more."

And then Jack drew back his fist and landed it across Sawyer's jaw, causing his head to snap back from the impact.

Juliet gasped and moved to Sawyer's side where her pregnancy enhanced sense of smell picked up the liquor on Jack's breath.

"You're drunk," she said, placing a hand on Sawyer's shoulder which he shook off.

"You stupid, sonuvabitch," Sawyer snarled. "You want to know who Sarah's seeing? You really want to know?"

"Sawyer, don't" Juliet began. "Not like this."

But there was so much testosterone flowing from the two men that Juliet's words were drowned out.

"The same damn man she was seeing when you met her. Her ex-fiance. That's who. You took her when she was damaged goods – fixed her up – gave her your damn bleeding heart. And as soon as he found out she was walking again, he shows up and she runs right back into his damn arms!"

Jack took a step back. Sawyer might as well have returned the punch.

"She. She wouldn't. He was."

"A selfish prick who makes me look like Ghandi," Sawyer spat. "And I hate the bitch for what she's done to you if you want to know the truth. But she ran right back to him – it's the truth the whole truth and nothing but the damn truth."

Regret started to wash over Sawyer. What had he done? There was no color left in Jack's face. Jack turned and stumbled back in the direction of his room.

Sawyer looked at Juliet.

"Go after him," Juliet said softly. "The damage is done now – don't let him do anything stupid."

"Awe hell," Sawyer muttered as he trailed behind the man who was supposed to be his best friend. Damn that Jack, he had lousy luck picking out who to trust. And Sawyer couldn't help thinking that at that moment he was the rule rather than the exception.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate looked at the phone for the tenth time that morning. She's half-expected Jack to call before his flight left. A blush spread over her face as she realized she wanted him to call. How could she miss someone that she'd only seen once?

But she felt like she knew him better than that. She cast an eye guiltily at the photo album that lay open on the sofa. Nosy, she accused herself. But when she'd made her way to the kitchen and filled a glass with white wine that she'd found chilling in the fridge, she returned to the couch and settled the album across her lap.

This particular album was filled with slightly yellowing Kodak snapshots. She focused in on a picture of a sandy-haired little boy with bright blue eyes and an expression that was much too serious for his years. A tall severe-looking man had a hand on the boys shoulder. They were both outfitted in full Red Sox regalia. There was even a pennant but instead of waving it aloft, it drooped from the kid's hand. Though they were standing side by side, there didn't seem to be much camaraderie between them.

Her mind tried to build pictures around the stories. As she studied little Jack's expression, she decided he'd just been scolded. The posture indicated a certain defeat that she recognized well from her own childhood. Nothing ever good enough. No matter how hard you tried. No matter what you achieved. Never quite good enough.

She sipped at the wine and turned the page. In this one, she spotted the same little boy on the third row of a team baseball photo. The 'Red Sox' on the uniforms in this case were simply white t-shirts with bright red squarish looking letters on the front. The team wore those mesh looking caps that dated the picture in the mid-seventies. He was tall among his peers – lanky – not filled out just yet. The kid beside him was making a face and Jack was grinning ever so slightly. Kate smiled as she looked at this picture. So, he'd had fun too. That was good.

Flipping the pages of the album, the pictures changed from the square prints and assorted team photos and school shots to the 4x6 prints that must have indicated his parents' purchase of a 35 mm camera. There were fewer hints of the grinning kid as the years passed. Although, the defeated droop of the shoulders disappeared too. She watched a solemn young man emerge – confident – handsome – but not necessarily happy.

She pulled out a photo of Jack at his high school graduation. The look in his eyes was determination. She could relate to that. Determination to make a better life than what he'd had. Except if her surroundings were any indication, he'd succeeded where she failed.

Or had he? Deep down, wasn't he as alone as she was? He just had more stuff.

She sighed and folded the album closed. Upstairs in the office, she slid the photo album onto the shelf and debated whether to try another one. There was no point denying that she was intruding into Jack's life, she guessed. But he'd told her to make herself at home, she justified. She ran her finger over the spines of the albums and fell on a spiral scrapbook. She pulled it from the shelf and looked at the cover.

'General Debauchery' it read. Kate laughed.

She carried the album back to the sofa and spent the next hour smiling at an entirely different side of Jack. Pictures of him at parties in his college days – usually with Sawyer somewhere in his vicinity. At least she supposed it was Sawyer, there was generally some shapely co-ed attached to his face or some other part of his body obscuring any view of him. Jack was grinning widely in most of these pictures. There were poker games, football games, and parades. She laughed aloud at the picture of Jack dressed as some opposing team's mascot on a float. How the hell had they talked him into that? Must have lost a bet of some kind.

There was a picture near the back of the album that she mentally dubbed her favorite. Jack and Sawyer were sitting on a beach somewhere, each with a beer in hand. They were both looking out toward the waves and they looked completely relaxed.

So, he wasn't quite as alone as she was, she thought. Not quite.

***

"I shouldn't have said anything," Sawyer said as Jack slammed every drawer in the pressboard dresser of the hotel room.

"I wanted to know," Jack returned. He opened the closet door and slammed that too.

The phone rang on the nightstand and Sawyer picked it up.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Packing. We'll keep it down." Sawyer said into the phone before hanging up. He turned to Jack. "Front desk."

"Figures," Jack muttered. He went into the bathroom and came back with his shaving kit which he threw in the general direction of his suitcase – he missed and it struck the headboard with enough impact to leave a scratch.

Sawyer picked it up and shoved it into Jack's suitcase.

"Look, she's a bitch."

"And that makes it better? That the woman I married and fought to hang onto was a complete bitch?" Jack asked. "Did I pack my laptop?"

"No," Sawyer said. "And for heaven's sake, let me pack it. You'll demolish it in the mood you're in."

"You should have told me before. I shouldn't have had to do you some favor for you to tell me."

Sawyer fished around behind the television and found the cord for the laptop charger. He pulled it loose from both the wall and the computer and began to wind it up as he spoke.

"I hoped you were over her," he said with a sigh. "She ain't worth you doing this to yourself. You haven't mentioned her in almost a week. Can't you just put this behind you?"

"She never loved me," Jack said, still wallowing in self-pity.

Sawyer didn't answer. Didn't know what to say to that. By his estimation, Sarah hadn't really loved Jack or she wouldn't have used him like that. For some reason he didn't understand, by all appearances Sarah had loved the jerk who'd run off at the first sign of trouble. Women.

"She loved him all along and she just married me because he left her," Jack continued.

"Then she's an idiot."

"I thought you said she was a bitch. Make up your mind."

"She's both. And she deserves that stupid jerk-off she's with now. She didn't deserve you."

"You have to say that because you're my friend."

"Am I? Because my jaw isn't so sure about that."

"Sorry," Jack mumbled. "Lost my temper."

"Yeah, me too. And I'm sorry about dumping Kate Austin on you. When we get back to L.A. I'll find her someplace else to stay."

Jack stopped his tirade and looked at Sawyer. "Why?"

"Well, you were right. I shouldn't have held that over your head. It wasn't right."

"You don't have to find her someplace else to stay," Jack said hastily. "She's fine where she is."

"But you've got enough to worry about without her underfoot. I'll find her someplace else. This guy, Hurley, thinks he may have work for her – maybe he can point me to a cheap apartment or something."

"Are you listening to me? She's fine where she is. Leave it."

Sawyer stared at Jack whose temper had subsided – he seemed irritated in an entirely different way now.

"You want Kate to stay at your place?"

"I'd hate for her to have to relocate. When she's already settled," Jack said lamely.

The corner of Sawyer's mouth quirked into a smirk.

"Because she's damn hot, ain't she?" he asked slapping Jack's shoulder as he slid Jack's laptop into his carry on bag.

"She ain't half bad," Jack said imitating Sawyer's drawl. "She ain't bad at all."

***

By the time the front door swung open, Kate had put away all evidence of her snooping. She'd even begun to feel a bit guilty about drinking his wine – hopefully he hadn't been saving it for a special occasion. She was dressed in a white sundress she'd found in the Rubbermaid container downstairs, and white flip-flops that she'd dug from the bottom of the closet – they were a little too big but with flip-flops it really didn't matter.

As Jack stepped inside, she nervously gathered her hair in her hand behind her neck and panicked. He was going to think she'd dressed up for him. Damn. That wasn't what she wanted. This was a business arrangement – not even that really – it was him doing a friend a favor. Charity really.

"Hey," Jack said offering her the school boy grin from the albums. He had traveled in a gray suit and it was a little rumpled from the trip. His tie hung loose around his neck – darker gray than the suit. And the top few buttons of his shirt were undone so that she could see his white t-shirt underneath. He looked tired around the eyes – half-exhausted. It was entirely unfair that he could look that exhausted and still make something stir deep in her belly. Damn, he looked good.

"Oh hi, " she said and her voice sounded a little too bright and chirpy. What was wrong with her? Crap. "I mean, thanks for letting me stay here. Can I help you get that?"

She hurried to the door and grasped the handle of his laptop bag just as he reached for the handle to put it down. Their fingers touched and they jumped apart. It should have been innocent. Why didn't it feel innocent?

"I made some lunch," Kate said, turning and hurrying toward the kitchen. Wait. This was his house. What was she doing? She wasn't even the domestic type. He was going to get the wrong idea entirely. She whipped around. "I mean, I made me some lunch. You want some?"

The same part of Jack's brain that always laughed at Sawyer's dirty jokes surged forward and he leered slightly at the way the white sundress clung to Kate's shape. He swallowed as he noted that the light through the kitchen window made the damn dress nearly transparent. Do I want some? Are you kidding?

Jack squelched this line of thinking and managed a weak smile.

"I'm going to put my things away and change. I'll meet you in the kitchen if you made enough."

"Oh yeah," Kate said. Too eager, Kate. Damn it. You're going to prison, you can't start a relationship. Even if he was willing to date a convict, it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Calm down, she ordered herself. "It's just soup and sandwiches. Campbells. I'm not really much of a cook."

Jack nodded and turned toward the stairs. He thought about calling Sawyer and changing his mind. Yeah, Sawyer? Maybe you should find somewhere else for her to stay – why? Because with her here, I'm having trouble remembering what Sarah looks like.

And that's not a good thing? He could practically hear Sawyer's voice in his head.

As he closed the door to his room it occurred to him that maybe it was a good thing. And for right now, where was the harm in soup and sandwiches? Who didn't like soup?


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: Sorry for leaving this one so long if you were following it. Thanks for all the reviews and feedback – here we go. . .I did a slight edit to fix some typos and tweak the dialogue a little. . .it didn't change what happened. . .just hopefully made it smoother._

_Disclaimer – Characters, etc. not mine._

_***_

Jack left the wrinkled suit lying on the ground at his feet when he undressed. It would have to go to the cleaners anyway – smelled like an airport. He debated whether to pull on some comfortable clothes and head straight to the kitchen or take a shower first. He sniffed at his armpit and decided on the shower.

The steam relaxed the muscles in his aching shoulders and neck. It had been a long flight and he'd decided to catch up on paperwork since he didn't have a seatmate. Good time management. Hell on his neck. He heard crackles and pops as he leaned his head over toward his left shoulder then the right. The hot water pouring over him helped. But he had to admit, he wasn't as young as he used to be.

_She_ was pretty young. Kate. He said her name aloud in the shower and smiled. It was a good name. It fit – simple and straightforward. He laughed at himself. Kate Austin was anything but simple and straightforward no matter what he might like to think. He wished he'd had a chance to meet her before she'd gotten into this mess. Before he got married would have been perfect. Then, he might have missed out on the entire humiliating Sarah situation.

Still, she was easy to talk to.

He found himself looking forward to talking to her over soup and sandwiches. Would it be inappropriate to crack open a bottle of wine? Probably. He was supposed to be her chaperone or the legal equivalent. But what the hell, right? She was over twenty-one. He shut off the water valves and stepped to the sink – picking up the shaving cream and coating his chin and throat – he began to systematically remove the five o'clock shadow from his handsome face. Surely, she was over twenty-one, he thought. Although, now that he thought about it he couldn't be sure. He'd ask, he nodded at himself in the mirror as he rinsed the razor under the cold water and tapped it against the side of the sink as was his habit.

It was only when he was just outside the kitchen that he realized that he was maybe a little overdressed for soup and sandwiches at his own table. He'd pulled the chinos off the hanger in the closet and spent several extra seconds deciding on a shirt. The blue dress shirt with white pin-stripes was one of his favorites and had the added bonus of being one he'd purchased himself after the divorce. He wasn't in the mood to wear any of the dozens of shirts Sarah had selected for him during their marriage.

He ran his hand over his freshly shaven face and looked down at his feet. Okay, the brown casual loafers he always wore around the house – that was about right wasn't it? He unbuttoned another button at the neck of his shirt and undid the buttons at his wrists and folded the sleeves to his elbows.

There.

That was better. Casual. Just right for an evening in front of the television. . . .with a beautiful young woman that you kept imagining naked.

Soup, he told himself firmly. Think about the soup.

***

Kate sat at the kitchen table sipping at her tomato soup and wondering why on earth she'd put on a white dress. White dress. Tomato Soup. Brilliant idea.

It was taking Jack forever to get cleaned up and get to the kitchen and she was glad she'd decided to let him dish his own soup into the bowl. By the time he got here it was going to be cold. Hers was getting cold. She went to the microwave and placed her bowl inside, hitting the button that gave it a 30 second burst of magical microwave energy.

She had just returned to her seat when Jack stepped into the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hey," she said back. A smile lit her face at the sight of him. "Soup's on the stove. I guess you know where the bowls are."

"Yeah," his grin was awfully nice. It made him look younger. Not that he was old or anything, but he had a few years on her she thought. She wished she'd paid attention to the dates on all those pictures she'd looked at. Asking him his age seemed too personal.

***

Jack sat down with his soup and picked up the spoon that Kate had placed on top of the folded paper towel she'd put down as a napkin. He sipped at the soup and smiled.

"This is great." He could get lost in those green eyes.

"It is, isn't it?" She was pretty sure he'd shaved. Showered, shaved and put on clean clothes. Did it mean anything?

"We never had tomato soup when I was growing up. My dad was allergic to tomatoes." Her hair looked so soft – he wanted to touch it.

"Really? That would cut out half my diet." His eyes were a great shade of blue. She always had a soft spot for blue eyes.

"I don't know why we didn't go ahead and have it though. He never came home in time for dinner." A strand of hair had come loose from whatever was binding it at the back of her neck. His fingers itched to brush it away from her face.

"It was usually better when my step-dad didn't make it home for dinner." His collar was turned up at the back – just a little – she wanted to straighten it.

"Ours too, actually. Better when Dad wasn't there." Jack laughed and she joined in. It was the wry laughter of two people finding they had something in common that they almost wished they didn't.

"So, before all this. . .were you taking classes?" He decided to try and broach the subject of her age – if she was underage he needed to get away from this table as quickly as possible. And take another shower.

"Classes? I went to a community college for a while – tried nursing, but I'm not too good with blood so I switched to business classes. I told you I had a part-time job at the bar."

"Right." Jack said remembering how that had turned out for her. He'd forgotten that – she'd had a job waiting tables at a bar – so she had to be over 21. He relaxed. "What did you study?"

"I had a little scholarship," she said, remembering. It had been a while since she'd thought about that part of her life. "I was taking computer courses. And the basics, in case I wanted to move on to a four year school."

"Are you any good?" Jack asked.

"At?" Kate queried, blushing.

"At computers," Jack said hurriedly, flushing a little himself.

"Oh, yeah. I was okay. I'm a little rusty."

"Mine upstairs is all messed up," Jack said, waving his sandwich in the direction of the upstairs office before he took a bite. He hoped he wasn't just trying to get her upstairs.

"Oh? Well, I guess I could take a look. I mean, I probably can't do anything you couldn't do, but I could give it a try." Kate realized that she hadn't been eating and picked up her grilled cheese. She took a bite that was too large. In her hurry, a crumb went down the wrong way and she started to cough.

She reached for her ice water and was dismayed to find it empty. Jack pushed his beer at her.

"Here."

She took it and gulped gratefully. "Sorry," she said, placing her hand in front of her mouth in embarrassment.

"You okay?" Jack leaned across the table and touched her right arm. She looked down at his hand, thinking he'd jerk it away, but he didn't.

When she looked up, his eyes were filled with concern.

"I'm fine," she assured him. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her left hand over his and squeezed it lightly. "Thanks for the beer."

"No problem." Jack's eyes were on their hands now too. He wasn't sure what to do. He liked touching her. But they couldn't sit here like this all night. . .could they?

The silence lengthened without either of them moving. They could hear each other's breathing and the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house.

Jack's hand had grown warm, sandwiched between the soft freckled skin on her arm and her lightly callused palm. Finally, he took his free hand and lifted that palm, turning it over so that he could examine it. His fingers lightly brushed at the calluses.

"Hard work," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Picking cabbages most recently," she said softly. "They don't ask many questions."

"Explains the nice tan." He continued stroking her palm with his fingers and she didn't stop him. If he'd looked up, he would have seen that her eyes followed his fingers.

"Surgeon's hands," she said without thinking.

"Comes in handy – being a surgeon." He caught her eye and winked.

She laughed and leaned across the table to plant an impulsive kiss on his cheek. She started to pull away, but his hand came up and cupped the side of her face and pulled her closer.

They paused there. Inches apart.

He looked at her lips – soft – slightly reddened from the warmth of the soup. They looked so. . . impossibly. . .soft.

He raised his other hand and ran his fingertip over her lips, and she closed her eyes at his touch. She wanted him to kiss her. But she didn't close the distance because she didn't feel she had the right.

He finished tracing her lips and cupped the other side of her face.

Do it, she thought.

And he did.

He inhaled deeply and drew her face to his, closing those last few centimeters. Their lips touched softly at first and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. He ran his tongue out and wet her lips and his. Her lips parted in response.

He took his time. Darting his tongue in and out as though testing the waters. She stood up so that she could lean closer to him. He stood, following her lead and took two steps around the table so that now their bodies were pressed against each other.

Kate's arms slid up around his neck, and her fingers played with the hair at the base of his skull. He dove in deeper, his tongue intertwined with hers as he gave in to this heady passion. The dress was thin and as he moved one arm to encircle her waist, the fabric slipped up just enough to cause the strap of the sundress to fall over her shoulder.

She pushed the strap back up. An oddly modest gesture in the moment and somehow it turned him on even more. She was leaned into him and he was supporting her weight. He took a step backward and she followed, never breaking the kiss. Three more steps and they bumped into the chair where Jack had sat moments before.

It tipped over and crashed to the ground, but they barely heard it over the noise of their hearts racing. Racing toward something that they'd both known better than to start. Jack found his back against the wall and Kate melded into his front. His lips left her mouth only to move down her cheek to her jaw line. . .to her neck. . .he had just reached a spot at the base of her throat that caused her to moan and dip her head back when a cruel ringing sounded from his pocket.

He ignored it, but Kate tensed under his touch.

"You should get that," she said breathlessly, pulling back though his arms held her against him.

"It can wait," Jack muttered against her skin.

"No. It could be important. You're a doctor, right."

Jack cursed whoever invented the cell phone as Kate placed a hand on his chest and stepped deliberately away from him. She glanced down toward the ringing cell phone again, then away quickly with a slight smile. Jack followed her eye and jerked the tail of his shirt out as he turned away from her. He paused in an attempt to slow his breathing among other things.

The phone stopped ringing briefly then started up again so he flipped it open and barked "Shepherd." into it.

Kate brushed at her now rumpled dress and looked around for something to distract her. She picked up the chair and began to take the dishes to the sink. Work. Work always steadied her. She smiled at Jack's irritated tone as he spoke to whoever had interrupted them.

"The game? No. I'm not watching the game. What game?"

Sawyer, Kate thought. Had to be.

"How the hell would I know what the score is? I just told you I'm not watching."

Oh, Jack was not happy. Her smile widened as she eavesdropped.

"Well, turn on the damn radio."

She should be thanking her attorney, she supposed. After all, she'd told herself that she wasn't going to do this. Wasn't going to sleep with Jack. And she was embarrassed that he'd been home less than an hour before they'd been on each other like kids on prom night.

"So, you can't turn on the car radio because Juliet's sleeping but you can call me at. . .whatever time it is. Occur to you that _I _might be sleeping?"

Kate left the dishes soaking in the sink and slipped out of the room before Jack could turn around. It was a terrible idea to let this get out of hand. He'd see that by morning. Better that nothing happened.

Jack snapped the phone shut and turned around to find Kate gone. He sighed as he went to the refrigerator and plucked out another beer. In the living room, he plopped down and hit the button on the remote. As he figured out which teams were playing and what the score was, he once again flipped open the cell phone and hit the send button.

"Yeah, it's me. 14-6, Giants."

He took a swallow from his beer and watched as the trailing team kicked a field goal.

"Make that 14-9."

"I thought you weren't watching the game." Sawyer's voice was low so as not to wake Juliet who reclined in the passenger seat beside him. They hadn't been able to get the early flight Jack had taken so they were still driving home from the airport.

"Well, I might as well watch the end of it now," Jack snapped, half irritated and half relieved that Sawyer had interrupted the little scene in the kitchen. After all, they barely knew each other. "So, you want the play by play or just score updates?"

"Play by play, if you don't mind. This Bluetooth thing is finally coming in handy for something," Sawyer responded.

"Alright, as soon as the commercial's over." Jack tipped the bottle back and took a swallow. He didn't fool himself that he was going to get much sleep tonight.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's note: I've just about given up on finishing this one before the hiatus is over. Since there's only about 48 hours in the hiatus. But in my spoiler-avoidance effort, this seemed like as good a task as any to take on. And as always, thanks for your reviews. They keep me writing.**_

***

Kate smelled coffee when she woke up – which seemed weird until she remembered that she wasn't alone in the house any more. She felt a wave of warmth spread over her body at the memory of the kiss in the kitchen. She rolled out of bed and shuffled through the clothing she'd hung in the closet, finally settling on the jeans she'd worn home from her arraignment and a white blood drive t-shirt emblazoned with 'Good to the last drop' that she'd found in the dryer when she washed her clothes that first day.

After her shower, she dressed and looked herself over in the mirror. The t-shirt was too big so she rolled the sleeves up a couple of turns and tucked in the tail. Now, it just looked roomy – roomy was good. She pulled her hair back off her face and applied only a sparse amount of make-up. Just enough to feel like she was dressed, but not like she was dressed up.

There. No more flirty white sundresses for her. She was here until her semi-scrupulous lawyer could find a way to get her out of this mess. Or until she got a chance to run. Either worked for her.

"I am not," she told the girl in the mirror, "I repeat, NOT, here to seduce Jack Shepherd and set up housekeeping."

The words echoed a little off the glass, so she winced and clapped a hand over her mouth. Hopefully, he hadn't heard that. She squared her shoulders. Not that it mattered if he heard it because it was true. She'd done the white pickett fence and strong young husband thing before – and it had not turned out well. Taco night had turned into pregnancy tests and honeymoon tickets. And that level of intimacy had turned into abject panic.

Her face paled before her in the mirror as she realized what an excellent witness Kevin, her ex, would make. Or Tom's wife. Or the bank robber she'd ended up shooting herself. Kate's hands pressed against her eyes as she tried to block out the pictures that shuffled through the head of all the people that she'd never meant to hurt. As she took her hands away, the pressure gave the light in the room a bluish tint for a second before her eyes regained focus.

No. She wouldn't add Jack to that list of people she'd ended up hurting. She wouldn't get that close.

***

Jack sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee reading the same paragraph in the newspaper over and over. And he still couldn't have told you what it said if you paid him. Where was she? He'd thought they could have a talk over breakfast which was getting colder by the minute and wasn't that great when it was hot, he guessed. Sawyer had taught him to make omelets when they were roommates.

He'd sworn that nothing melted a co-ed's heart like a man who could cook. Knowing how to cook didn't stop Sawyer from running three miles every morning and hitting the gym as soon as he finished his last class though. Jack suspected that effort had a lot more to do with the hearts Sawyer melted than his omelets. But sometimes it wasn't worth arguing with Sawyer, so he'd learned to make passable eggs.

And though he was loathe to admit it, it did seem to sort of charm Sarah back in the early days. He cursed himself for thinking about Sarah. That was a dead end road that he didn't intend to travel any more. And didn't need to, he reminded himself, if he'd read Kate right the night before she was interested.

Now, all they had to do was get rid of those pesky criminal charges and make sure she stayed out of jail and the future was looking bright.

He gave up on the article that he'd been having so little success reading and flipped the paper to read what was below the fold. His good mood vanished.

"Kate Austen – Heroic Daughter or Patricidal Maniac?"

He gulped his coffee and burned his tongue but he didn't even care. How the hell could they get away with printing this stuff? That sounded like tabloid journalism to him. Wasn't the jury pool going to get contaminated or something? He picked up his phone and dialed Sawyer.

"I don't have court til 10. Can it wait?" Sawyer's voice sounded like it was far away. Jack glanced at the clock and noticed that it was only 6 am – the difference in the hours of a doctor and a lawyer he guessed. Or in this particular doctor and this particular lawyer, more accurately.

"Have you seen the paper?" Jack demanded.

"I haven't seen anything but the back of my eyelids," Sawyer grumbled. "This is my late day – hell, Juliet's still here – what time is it?"

"Go get your paper and look at it," Jack ignored his question. He could hear Sawyer tossing aside blankets and a thump that sounded like he might have stumped his toe, followed by a characteristic 'sonuvabitch' that confirmed it. Eventually, he heart a door open and a paper being unfolded.

"Yeah, I see it," Sawyer sighed.

"Can they get away with it?"

"Probably – I mean, they allow that she might be a heroic daughter after all. That could actually work to our advantage maybe. That's the angle I was planning to push – that she didn't so much kill her father as save her mother."

"Isn't that a risky strategy?"

"Yeah, the un-risky strategy would be to try and cop a plea and see if we can get her out on parole in five to ten, but she don't want that. That's what the last few lawyers tried to do and she fired them."

"But."

"Jack. I know I kind of implied that you should . . .well, you know what I implied. Thing is. Have a good time if you want to – if she wants the same thing – but don't get too attached to her. I like to think I can pull this off and become the next Johnny Cochran – but chances are - she may spend most of her life in jail, Jack. That's all I'm saying."

Jack gritted his teeth, "If that's your attitude, I'll get her another lawyer."

"It's not my attitude. Hell, Jack. You know me. I'm cocky as hell – I think I can do this or I wouldn't have taken the case. But the down side is, I'm cocky as hell – I think I can win every case."

"When's the trial start?" Jack snapped.

"A week from today. Don't know how they got it on the docket so fast to be honest. But it won't be long now. I have a strategy, Jack. I know what I'm doing. Don't go putting it in her head that I'm about to sell her out or something."

"Are you?"

"No. Can't believe you'd even ask it."

Jack snapped the cell phone shut without saying goodbye.

"Who was that?" Kate said from the doorway. She'd picked up the paper he'd been so concerned about a few moments before and her eyes were scanning the story.

"That's a crock, Kate. Anybody who met you would know that you're not a maniac – patricidal or otherwise."

"Gee, thanks," Kate gave him a crooked smile but didn't look convinced.

"He'll get you out of this, Kate."

"That why you just told him you'd get me another lawyer?"

"We argue. It's what we do. He's good – he's just irritating."

"Yeah, Jack. I know he's irritating. I even know that he's supposed to be good. If I was innocent, I'd be a lot more confident of how this is going to go."

Jack crossed the room on impulse and gripped her thin arms and shook her ever-so-slightly.

"Hey, it's going to be okay."

"Right. Sure it is."

"I mean it. You need to get your mind off this. Tell you what – after I do my morning rounds – if there's not a crisis, I'll come back home and we'll go for a drive."

Kate pulled up the leg of her jeans and pointed at the ankle bracelet. Jack grimaced.

"Oh, right. Well, how long's your leash?" his tone was teasing and she wasn't sure whether that made her want to laugh or cry.

"A couple of blocks in any direction I think."

"A walk then?" Jack offered.

She decided that she had already shed enough tears to last a lifetime and forced a smile. "Alright. A walk sounds great."

After he'd left, she sank down on the couch and flipped the television to an 'I Love Lucy' re-run. She just couldn't stand to think any more. She drank in Lucy and Ethel like so much balm to her soul as they dealt with problems that seemed like child's play in her current predicament.

Maybe Taco night hadn't been so bad after all.

***

The walk became a daily routine – if you can develop a routine in as little as a week. Jack would drop by after his morning rounds and they'd make a circuit of the neighborhood. Then after his evening rounds, they'd eat whatever she'd thrown together or the take-out he supplied and drift through the streets again.

They talked about everything and about nothing.

"I used to want to be a ballerina."

"Were you any good?"

"I don't know. My mom said dance lessons were a waste of money."

Then silence for the rest of the block as they contemplated what might have been.

"I played baseball in college until I threw my shoulder out."

"Ouch! How was your fastball?"

"Good enough to get me a tryout for the minors but not good enough to make it."

"I bet you looked cute in your uniform."

"Not as good as I looked out of my uniform."

She smacked at his shoulder and he ran from her. They ended up back in his yard at a dead run and she leaped onto his back and tumbled them both to the ground laughing.

"My dad never thinks I'm good enough. No matter what I do – finish medical school a year early – get recognized for a miracle surgery – never good enough."

"Your dad's a jerk."

"He makes me so mad."

"Yeah," then with a look of deadpan innocence. "Want me to blow up his house for you?"

Jack did a quick double take and she burst out laughing.

"I was kidding," she said wrinkling her nose and quickening her pace into a slow jog.

"Sure, you were," Jack said, catching up to plant a kiss on her cheek then passing her by before she had a chance to object.

She matched his pace and they didn't say much more when they got back to the house and went their separate ways to the showers.

On Saturday when Jack got home for their lunchtime stroll, he found himself oddly jealous to see Sawyer sitting at the kitchen table across from Kate with legal pads and tape recorders spread out between them. Their heads were leaned close together – his light and hers dark – as they examined some piece of evidence and spoke in low tones.

"Hey!" Jack called a little more loudly than strictly necessary.

They looked up.

"Oh, hey Jack. Thought you'd be at work," Sawyer said, flipping through the legal pad as though he were searching for something.

"Well, I'm not," Jack said bristling. "I stopped by for lunch."

"Okay," Sawyer said, reaching for another legal pad.

"Lunch with Kate."

"So, have lunch with Kate," Sawyer mumbled. "I think we've almost got the testimony down. We can finish after you guys eat."

Jack looked back and forth between Kate and Sawyer in frustration. Kate winked and a grin spread across her freckled face. She touched Sawyer's wrist lightly causing him to look up.

"Jack and I want to have lunch. Maybe you could go back to your office and look for those notes." A beat. "Or something."

Sawyer looked like one of those puppies cocking his ear at a vague sound on a cartoon.

"Oh, LUNCH! I didn't. . . I mean, right. You guys should have lunch," Sawyer started scooping his papers toward him and dumping them into his briefcase.

"Ford, I didn't mean," Kate blushed furiously.

"No, sir. Far be it from me to interrupt _lunch_." Now, it was Sawyer that was grinning.

"Sawyer, we're not," Jack began sensing Kate's discomfort. "We just always take a walk together, that's all."

"Taking a walk? Is that what they're calling it these days?" Sawyer said, snapping his briefcase shut and crossing the room in four long strides.

He slapped Jack on the back as he departed and Jack dropped his head in defeat.

"Sorry," he murmured to Kate as soon as the front door slammed shut.

"He thinks," her voice sounded a little weak. "He thinks we're sleeping together."

"He thinks everybody's sleeping together," Jack said, trying to make light of it. "He's got a dirty mind."

When she spoke again, Jack expected a reproach. Instead she said, "My trial's in three days."

"I know. I shouldn't have interrupted – I know you've got to get ready for your trial. I just like our walks."

"I like them, too. Don't guess I'll get too many long walks in the sunshine after the trial's over."

Jack held out his hand and waited until she crossed the room and took it. Then, he led her out the front door and down the block.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Sawyer dated two girls in the same weekend? And proposed to one of them?"

"That sounds. . .exactly like something he'd do."

"He didn't pull it off. But it was funny as hell watching him try."

"So, start at the beginning," Kate said, squeezing Jack's hand, grateful to talk about anything but the trial or her potential impending imprisonment. Grateful to be walking alongside Jack in the sunshine.

***

_What do you think? Moving too slow? I always thought Jack could have had Kate back in Season 1 if he'd picked up the pace a little. I suppose we'll see whether the tortoise or the hare end up winning the race this season. But for this story. . .I suppose you can tell how it's going to come out._


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! I normally try to spread them out a little, but I had this one ready so I thought I'd go ahead and post it._

***

Jack glanced in the backseat and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of 'Crazy' playing through the speakers of his car. Crazy was exactly how he felt right now. Crazy-nervous that she was going to be pissed about what he was bringing home to her. Was it a casual friend kind of gift? Your casual friends brought you a CD they thought you might like – or a book by your favorite author – or maybe a silly hat when they went to Mexico. He grimaced – maybe it wasn't casual – maybe it was too personal.

It was a dangerous line to cross.

As the light turned to green and he stepped on the gas, he picked up the phone and hit the speed dial for Sawyer's place.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Juliet."

"Sawyer just stepped out, Jack. You can probably catch him on his cell."

"No, I wanted to talk to you."

"To me?" Juliet's light laugh made Jack smile. He remembered for a second exactly why he'd invited her to that party long ago. She always made him feel better.

"I need some advice."

"About baking?"

It was Jack's turn to laugh. He'd never once had dinner at Juliet and Sawyer's when she didn't burn the rolls – even if the rest of the dinner was perfection.

"About a woman."

"Tell me you're not sleeping with Sawyer's client."

"I'm not sleeping with Sawyer's client."

"Good. Because as much as I love him, I've seen his notes on this case and I'm not sure you'll see much of her after this week."

Jack's heart sank a little. Juliet had an analytical mind and was almost as good at sizing people up as Sawyer.

"Should I look into another attorney for her?"

"I thought you said you weren't with her."

"I said I'm not sleeping with Sawyer's client. But, she won't always be Sawyer's client, will she?"

"Oh, Jack." Juliet sighed and he heard the sofa squeak as she sank onto it. "Why do you always fall for the wrong women?"

"Why do you always fall for the wrong men?" The irritation in Jack's voice was evident.

"Sawyer's not the wrong man, Jack." Her voice was clipped now and Jack could picture her face taking on that icy mask that put fear in the heart of the Board Members who had the audacity to question the ethics of her research.

"I didn't mean Sawyer – necessarily. I meant Edmund."

Juliet was silent for a moment on the other end of the line and Jack thought she might have hung up. When she started talking again, her voice had softened although Jack got the idea that had taken some effort.

"What kind of advice do you need?"

"I bought her a gift and I'm wondering if it's too personal."

"Lingerie would be too personal," Juliet said flatly.

"It's not lingerie."

"Jewelry would be. . .well, for the length of time you've known her. . ."

"It's not jewelry either."

"Okay, I give. What did you get her that you're so worried about?"

"Shoes."

"Shoes?" Juliet sounded like she was choking.

"Running shoes." Jack sounded a little hurt. "We've been going for walks and she's been borrowing some of Sarah's old clothes to fill in her wardrobe but she's only got the one pair of shoes. A pair of loafers. And I was in the sporting goods store today and it hit me that she needed better shoes."

"Are they her size?" Juliet said, smothering another giggle.

"Well, I checked this morning. I left the house before she got up and her shoes were by the door so I checked the size."

"And you just happened to be in the sporting goods store, huh? A likely story. I think that it'll be fine. Running shoes sounds like a thoughtful gift. Do you know what size her other clothes are?"

"No." Jack said sounding grumpy. "It's not like I went through her closet."

"No, of course not." Juliet said and Jack could almost hear the eye-roll. "I think it's fine, Jack. Just – don't get hurt okay? You're just now really getting back on your feet."

"We're just friends, Juliet. If we can get through this trial, maybe someday it'll be something more, but for now. Just friends."

"Who buy each other shoes."

"Yeah." This time Jack grinned at himself. "Friends who buy each other shoes."

"Alright, don't go getting your heart broken Jack."

"I'll try not to."

After a few more pleasantries about Juliet's pregnancy and a little commiseration about the trials of sharing an apartment with Sawyer, they hung up.

***

Kate sat on the sofa with her bare feet crossed underneath her. She was studying the printout that Sawyer had dropped by and chewing her lower lip. It was the witness list.

"Don't panic, Freckles. I'll get 'em on the cross examination."

"What are they going to say?"

Sawyer hadn't met her eye.

"They'll say what they say. It's what I get them to say later that matters. It's all in the details."

That was when Kate shocked him – in all their meetings to date she'd been utterly calm and almost off-puttingly distant about the whole thing – now, tears were pouring down her face and her chest was racked with sobs.

"What'd I say?"

"It's not what you said," Kate said between sobs. "It's what they'll say. I did this thing, Ford. I ruined their lives. How am I supposed to go in there and act like I'm some kind of hero when I wrecked all those lives."

"You didn't mean to ruin their lives." Sawyer said quietly. He laid one hand on her shoulder in a show of comfort. Then he jerked it away, keenly aware that if Jack happened home it was exactly the sort of thing he'd take the wrong way.

"Doesn't matter what I meant to do. Whatever happened happened. Their lives will never be the same because of me. Because I thought I could fix everything and make it better – but all it does is make things worse and worse and worse."

"I'll make you look like Mother Teresa before I'm done, Kate. And then Jack'll take you off to some little romantic island in the Pacific and you two can enjoy life for a while. Keep your eye on the prize."

"Mother Teresa wouldn't go off with Jack on a romantic getaway." She tried a grin but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"No, guess not. But I don't know – he's a pretty handsome guy." Sawyer winked at her.

"Got a thing for him yourself, do you?" She sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her blue silk blouse.

"You caught me," Sawyer said, still eyeing her warily lest she started crying again. "Always did have a thing for doctors. Speaking of which, I've got one waiting for me to meet her for an ultrasound. You doing okay here?"

"I'll be fine," Kate said. "I'll have it together by the trial."

"Just. Try to relax tonight, okay? Enjoy yourself."

"In case tomorrow's my last day as a free woman?"

"You wound me. No confidence in me whatsoever."

"What makes you so sure you can get me off?"

"Get drunk."

"What?"

"Get drunk – loaded – wasted – whatever your poison is – indulge in it tonight. I can't have you wound this tight for the trial. Hell, get laid – if you haven't already."

"That's your legal advice. Get laid."

"Well, I kind of thought you and Jack had already gotten that idea on your own, but if you had I suspect you wouldn't be this tense."

"Get out, Sawyer."

"Hey, you called me Sawyer. I'm growing on you, admit it."

"Out!" she pointed at the door and he tossed a wave over his shoulder as he left.

***

Jack pulled into the driveway and plucked the shoes from the backseat. He hadn't gift-wrapped them. That had seemed over the top. But as Kate heard him pull up and watched through the blinds, he looked so tentative walking up the drive. As though, the bag he held contained a bomb that might go off any minute.

She laid the printout that she'd been clutching all afternoon on the coffee table and pasted a smile on her face. It was almost like that first day when he'd come home to her. She didn't know quite what to do with herself. What was in that bag?

Jack's keys jangled as he unlocked the door and came inside.

"Oh, I thought maybe you were downstairs."

"No, right here."

"I brought you something."

"A present?"

"Yeah," he grinned and it made him look like the little boy in the photo albums. Was he even blushing a little?

"I didn't get you anything. Is it a special occasion?"

"No," Jack shook his head. "Not really. Just. I thought you might need. Well, here."

He thrust the bag out at her and she blinked at the suddenness of the gesture. She stepped forward and took the bag he extended and peeked inside.

It was shoes.

As she pulled the orange Nike box from the bag and flipped it open, she read the side of the box.

Running shoes, to be more specific.

She'd been pushing it from her mind all day – that temptation that befell her at every second and every turn – that temptation that she'd managed to defeat in her desire to hang around long enough to see Jack just one more time. To see his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his light touch on her hand as they ate together or the brush of his lips on her cheek when he thought he could get away with it.

But this man that had almost convinced her to stay had just handed her running shoes.

Maybe it was a sign.

Maybe it was time to run.

***

Jack knew the minute she opened the box that he'd done something wrong. Damn it. Her face had drained of color and her hand was trembling as she lifted the pristine white shoe from the box.

"I can exchange them," he offered unsure what else to say.

"No, no. They're great," she said when she found her voice. "I like the blue stripes. Glad you didn't go for pink."

Her words were normal but there was something in her tone that he didn't like. He'd blown it and he wasn't even sure how.

"We could try them out. Take a whirl around the block and then I could throw some burgers on the grill."

"Yeah, we could do that." Her voice sounded hollow – like there was no life to it.

"Are they the wrong size?" He tried desperately.

"No. I just. Let's go for that walk."

"I'll get changed."

He moved as quickly as he could because he sensed that there was an urgency in these moments even if he couldn't pinpoint the source. But when he got to the den, he figured out exactly what it had been.

She was gone.

***

"Can you please take a break from that and come to bed?"

"It's 6:30, Jules. Who goes to bed at 6:30?"

"Pregnant women who want sex," she said grumpily. "If you wait much longer to come to bed, I'll fall asleep on the couch again."

"I'll wake you up," he offered.

"Are you willing to risk it? Why do you think I keep you around anyway?" Her tone was teasing.

Sawyer scrolled down the screen on his laptop and held up one finger, then snapped the lid shut and stood up.

"You have to keep me around, Juliet. I'd be lost without you. Did you say something about sex?"

"If you play your cards right," she smirked. She preceded him to the bedroom and he almost went to the kitchen for a bottle of wine until he remembered she wasn't supposed to drink it.

They were lying tangled in the sheets, happily exhausted, when the phone rang from Sawyer's pants on the floor beside the bed.

"You should get that," Juliet said sleepily, rolling over onto her side, away from the ringing phone.

"Had your fun and now you're done with me, huh?"

"Something like that," she said with a yawn, pulling the sheet over her and leaving him exposed.

It stopped ringing and he'd just managed to sort out the bedclothes when it started up again. He pulled the blanket over Juliet and picked up his pants from the floor.

"Yeah?" he said without checking the display.

"Sawyer, it's Jack. She's gone."

"Wait. Who's gone?"

"Kate. She was here when I got home but I went to change and when I came back – she's just gone. I've looked all over the house and I've been around the block but I can't find her." Jack's voice was cracking.

"Calm down. She can't have gone far or that bracelet would have been set off. The cops would have called me. Oh, shit."

"What?"

"I had a missed call. Let me check." Sawyer scrolled through the numbers and breathed a sigh of relief.

"No, that was just you. Listen, I'll be right over there. We'll find her, Jack."

"Do you have any idea what's changed?"Jack said with a note of pleading. "She seemed fine this morning."

"We'll talk when I get there," Sawyer said, thinking of Kate's tears earlier today. He shouldn't have left her alone – should have warned Jack that she was near the breaking point – should have done something. "Look, make another run around the block – maybe she just needed some air. The pressure's got to be killing her."

"Right," Jack agreed.

It had to be killing her – it was killing him and he wasn't even on trial.

***

_A/N: How much courtroom drama do you want? Bearing in mind that everything I know about the law I learned from Perry Mason and Matlock. (And The Good Wife – that's a great show by the way.)_


	11. Chapter 11

Ana Lucia Cortez sat at her desk playing solitaire on the computer and sipping at a can of warm Diet Pepsi that had been on her desk since the beginning of her shift. She hated desk duty but here she was, and it was her own damn fault. Her personal cell phone rang and she dug it out of the desk drawer.

"Ana?"

"What do you want, Cowboy?"

"You say that every time I call."

"Because you always want something. Although, I'm kind of curious what that might be, because I don't think you've called me since the Ice Queen entered the picture. What happened? She finally figure out she was slumming it with the likes of you?"

"As a matter of fact, we're engaged."

"Well, well, well. The wild stallion is tamed – or at least branded."

"Try to get under my skin all you want. I need a favor."

"I knew you wanted something. So before you get started, you should know that just because I've not always played strictly by the rules doesn't mean I'm on the take. I won't do anything illegal for you."

"You've done things for me that are illegal in several southern states and I've returned the favor – but this particular request isn't illegal – it's just sort of a gray area."

"Information? I don't get a lot of information these days, I'm on bracelet duty for bad behavior."

"What did you do this time?" Sawyer said with a chuckle.

"I called a superior officer a name that doesn't bear repeating – in front of the entire squad room – and his wife. So, uhm, I got a feeling I'll be handing out jewelry for a while."

"Those things got GPS on them?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Could you look one of them up for me. . . unofficially. . .and then sort of forget you did it?"

"And why would I do that?"

"For an old friend?"

Ana Lucia laughed and felt the burn as the Diet Pepsi came out her nose. "Cowboy, we were a lot of things to each other now and again but I don't know that I ever classified us as friends. And that was a long time ago anyway."

"That bracelet duty – it involve a desk?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you sick of solitaire by now?"

Ana Lucia flipped him off – he couldn't see her – but it still gave her some level of satisfaction.

"Who?"

"Gotta promise me you'll forget about it after you check."

"Fine. I'll forget about it unless the alert goes off – then I can't help you."

"Kate Austen."

"You lost her?" Ana sat up straight and the rolling chair rocked violently.

"No, I haven't lost her. She had a fight with her boyfriend and she's off sulking somewhere – probably at one of the neighbors."

"I'll come help you look. Get me out from behind this damn desk."

"And then they'll know we lost her."

"Hah! You did lose her."

"Damn it, Ana. Can you tell where she is or can't you?"

Ana sighed dramatically, but she pulled up the appropriate screen and cross-referenced Kate's house arrest device.

"Hmmm. Well, apparently you're just lousy at hide and seek – because this is showing that she's still in the house – of course, that's a helluva house. But that's where she is."

"And there's no way she could have gotten the bracelet off and left it behind."

"Not unless she chewed her own foot off – it would have set off the alarm if she'd removed it? Sure you don't want my help?"

"Nah, we'll find her. Hey, that's right – you were the one who set up her up at the house - where would you hide?"

"I wouldn't hide – I'd hit that open bar in the basement and stretch out in one of those loungers by the pool. But I'm me, and you're looking for Kate Austen – who knows what the hell she'd do?"

***

Sawyer pulled up in front of Jack's place as Jack ran up the driveway – drenched in sweat from running all over the neighborhood trying to find Kate.

"She's in the house," Sawyer said.

"No, she's not – I looked everywhere." Jack said panting a little.

"Not everywhere apparently. I called in a favor – she's in the house."

"You reported her to the cops?"

"Not just any cop – Ana."

Jack looked like he was about to say something and decided against it. After all, he couldn't say much about Sawyer's former habit of calling up Ana Lucia when he felt lonely without being a complete hypocrite.

"She have any idea where in the house?" Jack asked instead, pulling up the edge of his t-shirt and wiping his face.

"This is going to sound crazy – but did you try the pool?"

"I looked in the back yard and called her name. I just assumed that if she was out there she'd have answered."

Sawyer leaned against the hood of his car and crossed his arms over his chest in the waning twilight. "Why don't you go check and I'll circle the block again – call me if you find her."

The wave of cool air that washed over Jack when he opened the front door was a welcome relief. The wonders of modern air conditioning. He was going to feel a little like an idiot for calling in the Cavalry if she'd been in the backyard the whole time. But then again, he'd stuck his head out the back door and yelled – she had to have known she was looking for him.

If Ana Lucia had made a bet, she'd have won.

Jack found Kate huddled onto the one and only rusting piece of pool furniture Jack Shepherd owned. The glider was shoved over against the pool house that held the pump and chemicals. Her knees were pulled up under her chin with her arms locked around them and she was staring down at the brand-new Nike running shoes on her feet with red swollen eyes.

"Why didn't you answer?" Jack said with more than a little irritation.

Kate looked up at him and shrugged despondently. She picked at her shoelaces.

Jack used his cell phone to let Sawyer know the crisis had been averted and then unable to think of what to say to Kate next – kicked off his shoes and dove into the crystal blue water of the swimming pool.

"Nice form," Kate said dully when his head emerged from the water.

Jack didn't answer her. He began to cut through the water making an expert flip-turn at the each end until his arms ached and his chest burned. Eventually, he pulled himself up on the concrete at the side of the pool breathing hard.

"Why didn't you answer?" Jack asked again when Kate's shadow fell across him – the pool was lighted and it gave off a glow that could be either eerie or comforting depending on your mood.

"After I saw the witness list today, I wanted to run," Kate said and her voice sounded unnatural from all the crying.

"And I gave you running shoes," Jack said, with a dawning understanding.

"I can't stand the thought of being locked up," she said dropping down onto the wet concrete beside him – again drawing her knees up under her chin like a small child. He sensed there was something she needed to say and didn't interrupt. "He locked me in the closet." The words were a whisper.

Jack turned to her, "What?"

"Wayne. When I was little – before he started hitting me – he just wanted me out of the way, so if my mom left the house he locked me in the closet."

"No," Jack shook his head, trying to imagine what that must have been like to the little girl she'd have been back then.

"Yeah," she said and she leaned over and dipped her finger into the water. "For hours sometimes. And if I tried to tell my mom, he hit her. And I didn't want my mom to be hurt so I learned to keep my mouth shut. He locked me up and now the very thought terrifies me. It makes me want to run."

Jack was silent.

"I'm scared, Jack."

Jack reached over and took her hand in his. He held it in both of his – protectively – trying to figure out how he could fix the damage that had been done to her before he ever met her.

"I'm scared, because if they find me guilty they'll lock me up. And I'm afraid I'll lose my mind."

"We'll run then," Jack said decisively. "I'll buy a boat and we'll get a gun and we'll cut that damn bracelet off and we'll run. They'll never lock you up again."

"And when would we stop running, Jack? That's the problem with running – it never ends – you never get to stop. And you think you'd be able to stand it right now – because you haven't lived it – but you'd start to hate it eventually – you'd start to hate me. And I couldn't stand that either."

"I could never hate you."

"That's what Kevin thought, too. And even my mother I suppose. But now they do. They hate me so much they're going to testify against me at my trial. And Tom's wife – oh god, Jack – Tom had a little boy and I got him killed and Tom's wife is going to testify."

"They say Sawyer's hell on the cross," Jack tried, he still hadn't let go of her hand.

"How do you cross-examine away a fatherless little boy, Jack? I'm going to jail."

"He'll figure something out. He's got to," Jack said, caressing her hand. "And if he screws it up, we'll run – I'll find a way."

"You're sweet," Kate said laying her other hand on Jack's cheek and turning him to her.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. She looked so sad and he'd have given anything to take her pain away. And in his eyes, she saw her own pain mirrored back at her – he hurt because she was hurting – she couldn't remember the last time someone had shared her pain so completely. If they ever had.

He leaned in and she closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. His face was still wet from his swim and the cool night breeze played over the water droplets he left behind as he leaned back.

"We missed our walk," Jack said and his voice was the only sound she heard in the quietness of the evening.

"Still want to walk with me?"

"Yeah," Jack said with that boyish grin that always melted her heart. "I want to walk with you for a long long time."

He didn't dry off and she didn't wash her face. They just locked hands and went out the back gate. They walked around her two block perimeter until the wee hours of the morning. There wasn't a lot of talking – there didn't need to be.

***

_**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the brief Sana/Jana interlude if that was unwelcome. . .that was for my amusement. : )**_


	12. Chapter 12

The sky was painted pink, blue, and gray as though some enormous kindergartner had gotten hold of the fingerpaints when no one was looking. It cast a pinkish glow over Kate's skin as she and Jack turned back into his driveway after they're night of roaming the streets – looking for peace.

Jack couldn't take his eyes off of her. He drank in her presence like he was preparing for a long drought. With the trial looming over them, maybe he was. They'd walked hand in hand all night, but as they neared the porch he took the lead a bit. He pushed through the door and led her up the stairs and he took her lack of resistance as a yes to his unasked question.

In his bedroom, he pushed the door closed although there was no one else in the house. She smiled a little at the gesture – the weariness that had settled into her very bones seemed to ease a bit. He drew his t-shirt which had dried sometime during the night, up over his head, and tossed it in the corner. Kate leaned back against the door – just watching – appreciating the little home gym more fully than she ever had before.

He extended his hand in invitation and she considered it. His long graceful fingers entranced her a little – he saved lives with those hands. But her exhaustion acted like a glass of wine might have in other circumstances. She was relaxed and she didn't think about it too hard. She lifted her arm from where it had settled against the cool smooth surface of the door and took a step forward – laying her hand in his.

His eyes narrowed slightly in a show of the lust they'd been pushing beneath the surface ever since they met. He gripped her fingers and pulled her against him so that she drew in a quick breath and felt a tingling that started in her ears and slipped down her body – warming her almost as much as the feel of his bare chest against her cheek.

They stayed like that a minute, pressed against one another, their arms trying to pull them closer still. She could hear his heart beating against her ear and her own racing in her ears. The jogging shorts he'd pulled on so long ago for their walk were thin and even through her jeans, she could feel that she wasn't the only one whose blood pressure was rising.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and turned her face up so that he could get his mouth on hers. He was hungry and he needed to taste her – those full pouting lips had been tempting him all night – all week actually. She ran her arms around his neck and purred a little when he kissed her. His control all but failed at that and he ran his hands up her back and back down to her waist.

He lifted her to draw her up to him and as her feet left the floor, she pushed off and let him take her weight – wrapping her legs around his waist. This time it was Jack who moaned a little.

He walked backward toward the bed – her hands splayed over his chest – exploring new territory and him jerking that stupid t-shirt out of her jeans with his free hand.

It was taking forever – the longest damn t-shirt he'd ever seen. He got to the bed and sank down with her in his lap and she giggled.

"Here," she said. She kissed him hard against the mouth and scooted off his lap to stand in front of him. She unbuttoned her jeans and bent to slide them to the floor. The t-shirt was like a dress hiding her from him.

He reached out to her, but she winked and stepped backward out of his reach. She turned her back and grabbed the tail of the shirt and slowly snaked it up her body. Jack was sure this was some form of torture. But a form of torture he liked a lot. He never took his eyes from the show but when she turned to face him in her bra and panties, she laughed.

He'd efficiently removed the rest of his own garments while she was distracted.

"Laughter is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," Jack said as he forced himself to stay where he was and wait for her to come to him.

"You'd prefer I cried?" Kate said as she took her time closing the four feet between them.

"Expressions of awe would work," Jack said, and Kate felt heat everywhere his gaze touched her body. Or she imagined she did – the look smoldering in his eyes was incendiary.

"Awwweee," Kate said teasingly, as though she were exclaiming over a cute puppy.

Jack's willpower was gone. His fingers closed on the lace at the edge of her panties and the next thing she knew she was underneath him.

He brushed her hair off of her face and kissed her. Their breathing was labored and the only thing separating them now was the lacy lingerie that barely covered the parts of Kate he most wanted to see in that moment.

She pushed against his shoulder and they rolled so that she was in control for a bit. She kissed his neck, his chest, and then sat up astraddle of his rock hard abs. She was really, really beginning to appreciate that little home gym.

She unsnapped her bra and his hands slid up her thighs and over her rib cage to cup her breasts. She didn't feel tired at all now. She dropped on top of him meeting his lips again and allowed him to reverse their positions.

"I think I love you," Jack whispered against her neck.

"This is no time for thinking Jack," she murmured as she took matters into her own hands – literally.

The thinking was over with at that point.

***

"I need to borrow your girlfriend," Sawyer drawled from the door of Jack's bedroom.

Kate's eyes sprang open and she clutched at the sheets, drawing them up under her chin as Jack set up and leaned in front of her protectively attempting to block her from view.

"What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?" Jack roared.

"I called first, but you didn't answer," Sawyer waved his cell phone back and forth.

"So call again," Jack said, looking around for his pants. Sawyer picked them up from the floor and tossed them at him.

"I did call again. I called like fifteen times. So, then I came over and knocked on the door and you still didn't answer. And the front door was unlocked – you're lucky I'm not a thief."

Jack turned his back on the door and pulled his pants on. He glanced at Kate who looked half-embarrassed and well, hell, she looked half-amused.

"Out, Sawyer," Kate said pointing to the door.

"I thought maybe the two of you had amputated her foot and skipped town," Sawyer said, not budging.

"Out." Kate said firmly without blinking.

"Fine," Sawyer said with a smirk. "Just don't get distracted. It's already one o'clock and we really need to go over a couple of things before the trial starts tomorrow."

He pushed off of the doorframe he'd been leaning against and walked down the stairs humming in a smug I-told-you-so sort of way.

"I'm sorry about that," Jack said, now wearing his boxers as he crawled back up in the bed to give Kate a quick kiss.

She dropped the sheet she'd been clinging too and cradled his face with her hands to prolong the kiss. His eye drifted down and saw something that he found mildly distracting. The kiss on her lips moved to her neck, then the smooth skin on her shoulder and then as his lips traveled over the swell of her breast, he became very, very distracted.

***

Sawyer heard a faint squeaking from upstairs and shook his head as he looked over the files and pictures he'd spread out on the table.

"Now, she takes my advice," he muttered to himself.

He thought about going up to remind them he was waiting but decided maybe Kate would be able to focus better when they got it out of their system. Besides, there was plenty of work to do if that wasn't going to be the last night those two spent together.

Sawyer settled in to try and make sure his best friend's girl got out of this mess.

***

"My clothes are in the basement," Kate said as she stepped from the shower and allowed Jack to wrap a towel around her.

"Which ones do you want?" Jack said, kissing her again. He never wanted to stop kissing her – this was why they'd pushed all this under the surface for so long – because now that it was boiling out it was so much harder to control.

She pulled the towel more tightly around herself as though she knew Jack was seconds away from another distraction. She bounced onto her tiptoes and kissed the end of his nose playfully before putting several feet of open space between them.

"Anything's fine," she said, grabbing another towel and dabbing it against her hair.

When Jack reappeared with the white sundress, she rolled her eyes.

"That's what you want me to wear to go over my testimony with Sawyer, is it?" she challenged.

Jack took in Kate's damp form and the dress in his hand.

"Do I have a reason to worry?" He asked.

"Not from me, no."

He extended the dress toward her and she took it from the hanger. She slipped it on and Jack noticed that it had very nearly the same effect on him it had that first day he'd seen her in it. Later. He promised himself. Later, he was going to take that off her like he'd wanted to do that first day.

They went downstairs and it took exactly one leering glance from Sawyer to set him on edge. The smile Kate was already wearing widened when she saw Jack's reaction.

"I'll go on down and get into some work clothes," she said, kissing Jack's cheek and giving him a reassuring pat.

Jack turned to Sawyer.

"If you say she's hot, I'll break your nose."

Sawyer managed to suppress a laugh.

"Actually, I'm doing my best to imagine her as Mother Teresa if you must know, Jack. She cannot wear that dress in the courtroom. Remind me not to let us leave today without finding her something appropriate to wear tomorrow."

When Kate returned, Sawyer was all business. He read her portions of depositions and asked whether that sounded like what she remembered. He pressed her on points that he felt were strong – trying to find weaknesses. As Jack watched him work, he began to think that maybe she really did have a chance.

***

AN: I don't know when I'll get to the next chapter. It may be a while. I'm just not sure how much courtroom I want in this. . .I'll have to mull it over a little. . .hopefully this was a nice chapter to break on. . .


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I got a few nudges to finish this and this is where I'd planned to go next. Hope it isn't too much of a disappointment. Let me know what you think as always. And thanks so much for all the nice feedback – you guys are great._

Dear Kate,

I miss you. And I'll never forgive Sawyer. Every night that I'm away from you is torture. Every day that I wake up without you near feels like a cloudy. . .oh heck, Kate. This is ridiculous.

I miss you. I'm lousy at writing letters – that's more Sawyer's thing and I'd get him to help me but I'm not speaking to him.

Know that I love you and I understand why you think this was what you had to do, but it doesn't change the fact that I wish you'd made a different choice.

With Love Always,

Jack.

***

Dear Jack,

Thanks for writing. You're right – your letter writing skills are lousy. If you still aren't speaking to Sawyer, ask Juliet to help you next time. I'm stuck in here for the next year and if that's all the news I'm going to get, I'll lose my mind.

Speaking of Sawyer and Juliet, is she showing yet? Do they know if it's a boy or a girl? I'm learning to crochet (which I'm crummy at) but I think I can manage to crochet a baby blanket if I knew what color. Not that there's a lot of choice on the colors here, but they do have pink and blue so tell me if you know.

I miss you too, you know. And I looked for you on visitation day but you weren't here. I wasn't sure if you were still mad or whether you'd found someone new. I assume you didn't find someone new if you still aren't speaking to Sawyer, so you must still be angry. I did what I thought I had to do, Jack.

When I'm lying here alone in the night, I think of you – of our night together. This year can't pass quickly enough Jack. Tell me you're not still angry.

It isn't fair of me to ask, but tell me you'll wait for me and I'll be the happiest girl in the world.

Waiting for a decent letter,

Kate.

***

Dear Kate,

Sorry you thought I was mad at you. Actually, I had made plans to come see you on visitation day but one of my patients started hemorrhaging and I had to do emergency surgery. By the time I was done, it was too late to get on the list and that's my excuse.

I miss you. And I told you at the courthouse that I'd wait for you forever if it was necessary. Still mad at Sawyer – he should have told me what you planned to do.

I got a dog – a big yellow lab – maybe you can help me think of a name. Right now, I just call her, Dog. Original, huh?

I love you, Kate. Always have. Always will.

Jack

P.S. Juliet read over this and said you should dump me for writing such lousy love letters – she also says tell you it's a girl.

***

Dear Jack,

Tell Juliet I said thank you for the advice but my options are somewhat limited at the moment – so I'll let you off the hook.

I started the pink blanket today – some of the rows are all scrunched up and some of them are too wide but when I took it all out and started over, it wasn't any better. Maybe when it's washed it'll look okay.

I thought of you today, Jack. We had a speaker come – a motivational speaker who was supposed to make us want to enroll in college. And I thought about the time we talked about that – about the time we talked about my brief stint in higher education. What do I want to be when I grow up, Jack? I suppose I'd might as well take the classes they talk about. What else do I have to do in here?

I'm certainly not going to make a career of crocheting baby blankets, I can tell you that. This thing is hideous.

You're supposed to laugh at that, Jack.

It's sort of a lie to say I only thought of you when the speaker came though. I think of you all the time – what you're doing. Who you might be helping. Whether you made up with Sawyer or whether you're still making him suffer. He really didn't have a choice in it, Jack. They offered the deal and I took it. I didn't even give him a chance to object.

We'll be together soon, Jack. And I won't have anything hanging over me. We'll be free, Jack.

Free to live our lives. Free to be happy.

A year isn't as long as all that, Jack. Although I admit it feels like an eternity.

You'll come visit me next time we have visitation day, right? It's on the fourth Tuesday. I'll be the one in orange – okay, one of the one's in orange.

Still waiting for a decent letter,

Kate

***

Dear Kate,

I miss you. I started to write that you have no idea how much I miss you but maybe you do. This is awful.

Sawyer came over to watch the game last night. That doesn't mean I've forgiven him. He was your lawyer and he promised to get you out of this. He was supposed to keep you out of jail- not let you sign a year of your life away. But, Juliet said he was miserable about it and she's got enough trouble without having to live with Sawyer in a bad mood. Heaven knows, I know what that's like.

I don't mean to worry you – when I say trouble I just mean the normal pregnancy things – the achy back and the swollen feet and all that. You ever given any thought to whether you want kids?

[Scribbled in the margin] _Sawyer says that is the worst lead-in he's ever read. He says he has no idea why you'd want me to wait for you. Tell me why you wanted me to make up with him again._

You didn't say what you thought I should name the dog. I could really use your help on that. Sawyer keeps calling him Mercutio and I hate that. If I don't name him soon I'm afraid the dog will start answering to that. What about Tom? Or Bob? Or maybe I'll just stick to Dog.

I hate to think of you in that place. You don't belong there – not in my mind. I got Sawyer to explain the deal to me again and I guess it's not as bad as I first thought.

So, basically, he got the murder charge dropped to self-defense – they dropped the arson charge altogether because Sawyer had all those witnesses who were willing to testify that they'd heard Wayne talk at the bar about setting his house on fire for the insurance. And the year is for resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and well, you know more about it than I do. I guess he didn't do as bad as I thought.

When you get out, there's something I want to ask you. If you still want me to wait for you, that is.

I'll be there on Tuesday. We can talk then.

Love,

Jack

P.S. Sawyer says that love letters are supposed to be mushier – and steamier – so I'll just ask you to remember that thing we did that morning that he was waiting for us to come downstairs and hope you found that as steamy as I did.

***

Kate,

Are you sure you don't want to try for parole? Jack is pathetic without you. He bought a dog and he's so depressed he can't even name it.

I know you said you want to serve your time and be done with it, but think it over. Have mercy on the rest of us that have to step over Jack's lip every time we walk by him.

Ford

***

Dear Jack,

Just a quick note this time to let you know that I remember that morning very well. And I'll ask you to remember what we did in the car on the way to the courthouse. That was very nice too.

I think Vincent is a good name for a dog – you might want to consider that one.

Can't wait to see you.

Kate

***

Ford,

No, I'm not interested in parole. I want to put all this behind me once and for all. But can you check and see if there's any way you can pull some strings and get me a conjugal visit? A year is turning out to be longer than I thought.

Kate

***

Kate,

Sorry. Conjugal visits are only for married people – speaking of which - me and Juliet tied the knot in Vegas last weekend. Wish you could have been there. Seriously. Wish you'd been there – Jack was the worst best man in the history of best men – the drunker he got, the more pathetic he was. He really misses you.

Give that parole some more thought.

Ford

***

Dear Kate,

You have no idea how sorry I am that I missed visitation day again. . .I wanted to be there. . .I would have been there. . .it was a patient again. . .

***

Kate closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. This wasn't the sort of place where you wanted to show weakness of any kind. And she had no right to expect him to wait. . .no right whatsoever. She folded the letter and slid it into her pocket. She'd read it tonight when the lights were out – when her eyes had adjusted to the dark – when no one would see her tears.


	14. Chapter 14

_February 2005. . ._

Sawyer stepped into Jack's living room and pushed his sunglasses back on his head. He surveyed the room with a look of disgust.

"What is this mess? I thought you had a maid," Sawyer said, stepping over a pile of what looked like scrubs.

"If you don't want to look at the mess, don't come over," Jack shrugged from his seat on the sofa. He was nursing a beer and Sawyer was fairly certain from Jack's bleary eyed expression that it wasn't his first. Or even his second.

"Baby shower – had to get out of the apartment," Sawyer said in explanation. He picked up a pile of newspapers from the recliner and looked around for a place to put them but every surface was littered with empty frozen food containers and beer bottles. Sawyer shook his head and dropped them in a pile in the floor.

"Kate's making her a baby blanket," Jack offered without looking at him.

Sawyer tried not to roll his eyes. Jack had made it almost 90 seconds without mentioning Kate – a new record.

"You mentioned that – about forty thousand times. Listen, Jack. You need to get out."

"Last time you said that you took me to the prison to meet women," Jack muttered.

"Yeah, well. I'm done introducing you to women. You and Kate deserve each other."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Even through the alcoholic haze, Jack thought he might be offended.

"You're both too damn stubborn to be happy. I mean, take you. You go to work. You come back here. You go to work. You come back here. When's the last time you saw the sun except through the window of your jeep?"

"I've been busy."

"You're pathetic. And you re-read her letters over and over and over again – but you won't go see her."

"I tried to go see her. They only allow her visitors every fourth Tuesday and something always comes up."

Sawyer gave an exaggerated nod. "Riiight. Because there's no possible way you could get someone to cover for you every fourth Tuesday. I mean the great Jack Shephard is irreplaceable, right?"

"You're being a jerk. This is your fault anyway." Jack snapped, slamming his beer bottle onto the coffee table so hard that Sawyer half-expected one or the other to shatter.

"So, we're back to that."

"You said you'd get her out of it. You said you'd do everything in your power. And you let her walk into that room and take that plea."

"It was a good plea. Hell, Jack. She set a house on fire with somebody in it. Not to mention the bank robbery and the numerous charges of assaulting an officer. Numerous, Jack."

"She wouldn't have had to run if they hadn't falsely accused her," Jack spat self-righteously.

"But she wasn't falsely accused!" Sawyer roared. "She did it, Jack. I mean – I'd have probably done the same thing – that's why I took the case to begin with."

"You took the case for the publicity."

"Well, yeah, at first maybe. But the better I got to know her, the more I thought she was justified in what she did. A year is better than she could have possibly expected – better than you could have expected if you were thinking with your head instead of your –"

"A year is too damn long," Jack snapped.

"Yeah, well, you're just going to have to man up and take it, Jack. Because she won't even hear of letting me try to get her out sooner on parole. She's as stubborn as you are. Like I said, you two deserve each other."

Jack and Sawyer stood face to face. Sawyer's jaw was set – he didn't want a fight but he wouldn't back down from one. Jack clenched and unclenched his fists – he wanted a fight, but hitting Sawyer wasn't going to solve anything and deep down he knew it. They glared at each other until Sawyer finally broke the tension.

"The game's on? Right?"

Jack hesitated a moment. He didn't want to watch the game – he wanted Kate. She was all he could think about. But, he couldn't have her – not right now, anyway.

"Yeah, basketball. You got money on this one?"

"Hell, no," Sawyer said with a self-deprecating grin, relaxing. "Juliet would kick me to the curb if she thought I was back into that. And I happen to know a good thing when I've got one."

"Could of fooled me," Jack said, returning to his seat and picking up his beer and the remote.

The two men settled in to watch the game in an uneasy sort of peace. Neither of their minds was entirely on the game.

***

_Fourth Tuesday of February 2005_

"Hello, Kate."

Sawyer tried not to be offended at the obvious disappointment on Kate's face when she saw who her visitor was.

"Hey. Long time, no see." She slid onto the permanently mounted stool on the other side of the table from Sawyer. She was looking up into the rafters and blinking rapidly – a sure sign that she'd read, 'Why Nice Girls Never Get the Corner Office' or whatever that book was called that he'd run across on Juliet's shelf one day.

"Jack would have been here but something came up."

"Of course, it did," she said with a weak smile. "Look, shoot straight with me, Ford. If he's moved on, just tell me. I'm a big girl – I can take it."

She didn't look like a big girl just then to Sawyer. She looked like a heartbroken kid who was waiting to hear that her dog hadn't just run away – it had been steamrolled.

He reached across the table and took her hand.

"Hey," he said giving it a squeeze. "Listen, he's as miserable without you as you are without him."

"He just doesn't want to see me," she said, half-wanting to pull the hand back but it had been so long since she'd had any human contact – any comforting gesture whatsoever that she didn't.

"He wants to do more than see you, Kate." Sawyer wanted to kill Jack at that moment. Kill him dead – he could blame all this on Sawyer all he wanted but the misery on this girl's face was Jack-induced – pure and simple. "I've never seen him this lovesick in my life – and I've known him a long time, Freckles."

She bit her lip and found the courage to pull her hand away. She locked her arms around her body as though to steady herself.

"Sure he is," she said hoping her voice was steady.

"I came to discuss the possibility of parole, Kate. You really need to consider this. You're not looking so good – you've lost weight since you've been in here – and it's not like you had any to lose."

"How long would I be on parole?" Kate asked.

"They say that if your exemplary conduct continues, at the end of six months – that's two months from now. They'd be willing to consider letting you out on parole. Why wouldn't you want that?"

"How long would I have to report to the parole officer? How long would someone be watching my every move?"

"They wouldn't be watching your every move – you'd just have to report in – it wouldn't be that bad."

"How long?"

"Two more years."

"No."

"Come on, Kate. You're not doing so great in here. And not to guilt-trip you or anything but Jack's not doing so great out there."

"No. Six more months and I'm released free and clear. No parole officer – no nothing. I can go anywhere I want, right?"

"That's right, but Kate – where is it you want to go that the parole would keep you away from anyway? I thought you wanted Jack to wait for you and the two of you would. . ."

"Don't try to act like you know what Jack and I want," Kate said, her voice firm now – decisive. "I'm finishing this so that I'll be done with it. That's that."

"You're as bad as he is."

"I'll take that as a compliment coming from you."

For the second time in a week, Sawyer was staring down someone he wanted to help more than anything – if they'd just let him. But for the second time that month, he backed down.

"Fine. Just, don't give up on Jack okay? He loves you – he's just an idiot."

"What makes you think he hasn't given up on me?" Kate asked and Sawyer barely restrained a sigh. He went over the details of the parole again – trying to get her to see reason but she was bound and determine to pay her debt to society and have it over with. He finally gave up - he needed to get back to the office.

***

Email conversation from the Gmail account of James Sawyer Ford:

Tuesday, 2:34 pm

Jules,

I love you. You are quite possibly the only woman I know that makes the least bit of sense.

James

***

2:37 pm

James,

I'll take that as a compliment – I think. I love you too. And you never make sense but I love you anyway.

Juliet

***

2:47

Jules –

Don't let me forget – when I went by the prison to try and talk sense into Kate this morning, she gave me a gift for the baby. You wouldn't believe the search I had to go through to get into that place.

James

***

2:59

James –

Are you getting any work done or just sitting in front of your e-mail? No wonder you appreciate my good sense if you've been to see Kate. How was she?

Juliet

***

3:32

Jules –

She's as stubborn as Jack. How 'bout we go out to dinner – Stefanos at 8?

James

***

3:47

James –

Stefanos sounds great – but I'm famished now – there's no way I'll make it til 8. I see my last patient at 4:30 – any chance we could do dinner at 5?

Juliet

***

4:02

Juliet –

I'm not getting anything done anyway – dinner at 5 it is.

James

***

4:36

James –

Try not to panic. But I'm going to have to cancel on dinner. Please stay calm but I think I may be in labor. . . .

***

There was more but Sawyer never read it. He just whisked his jacket off the back of the chair and dashed out to the parking garage to find his car. He tried Juliet's cell but instead of an answer he heard a persistent buzzing from under the passenger seat of the car. When he stopped at a red light, he fumbled around and finally pulled Juliet's Motorola from under the seat. Great. Well, at least she worked at a hospital.

If Sawyer had bothered to finish the e-mail, he would have read this:

4:36

James –

Try not to panic. But I'm going to have to cancel on dinner. Please stay calm but I think I may be in labor. It's too early to tell, really. And it could just be Braxton Hicks so I'm going to catch a ride home with Jack – he stopped by the office.

I tried to call you but it's going straight to voice mail – you must have set it that way before you went to the prison this morning. I'd keep trying but I can't find my cell. Aren't we a pair?

Anyway, see you at the apartment. Maybe you could bring dinner – looks like it could be a long night.

I love you so much.

Juliet


	15. Chapter 15

"I know you didn't read the whole e-mail, James." Juliet said for the tenth time from the sofa where she shifted uncomfortably to try and relieve some of the pressure in her back.

"Jack, tell her. Tell her you can't send a man an e-mail saying you might be in labor and not expect him to come running straight to the hospital," Sawyer shot back. He was pacing. He'd been pacing ever since he got home and found Juliet reclining on the sofa while Jack kept an eye on his watch.

Before Jack could answer, Juliet let out a cry of anguish bringing Sawyer to her side instantly.

"It's coming," Sawyer said breathlessly.

"No. It's not coming," Juliet said in exasperation. "I'm just pissed off at you because you never listen. Help me up."

Sawyer took Juliet's hands and helped her struggle to her feet. The baby was riding low in her belly now – had been for the last week and a half. She was grumpy and tired and she had to pee every fifteen minutes it felt like. She had to pee now, in fact.

"Where are you going?" Sawyer called when she pushed him aside and made her way to the bathroom.

"Where does it look like I'm going?" she called back.

"Did you?" Jack asked with a grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

Sawyer turned around and looked at him. "Did I what?"

"Read the e-mail. She really did try to call you but something must be wrong with your phone."

"I had it set to go straight to voice mail," Sawyer muttered, "because *I* went to the prison to see Kate and I had to check it at the front. And if you didn't have time to go see Kate, how is it you had time to hang around my wife's office, huh?"

"I stopped by your wife's office after I spent 13 hours in an emergency spinal surgery, Sawyer. I got called in at the crack of dawn because two kids decided to play chicken and guess what? Nobody was. Instead one of them will be lucky to walk and the other one will be lucky to breathe."

Sawyer sighed. "She thinks you're doing it on purpose. She thinks you just don't want to see her."

"I want to see her. You know I want to see her – you told her that, right?"

"I told her," Sawyer said. He had more to say on the subject but as soon as Juliet opened the bathroom door, he lost his train of thought.

"You okay?" he asked her, worry was etched in every line of his face. Okay, so he was a bit of a cad. He didn't always have the purest motives in the world. He was a bit selfish and thought a little too much about how to get ahead in life.

But he loved Juliet - with all his heart. Seeing her in this much pain and knowing he had something to do with it – even if the end result would be something they both wanted – it was killing him. He couldn't stand to see her suffer like this. And she might not want to admit it, but she was suffering.

And she could talk all she wanted to about him overreacting and Braxton Hicks and all that other medical jargon she was throwing around, but he'd bet dollars to doughnuts she was in labor. If not from watching the way her face went white and the way she clutched at her back every time one of the pains hit – from the way that Jack kept glancing at his watch and hadn't taken off his coat.

Sawyer crossed the room and put one arm around Juliet's back protectively, he took her hand in his and tried not to complain when she squeezed it so hard his new wedding ring cut into his finger.

"You didn't read the whole e-mail," she accused when she could breathe normally again.

"You're right," he agreed finally. "I didn't. I read the first sentence and I did exactly what you told me not to. I panicked. You were right and I was wrong."

"And you admit that if you'd read it, you'd have known to come here instead of getting a speeding ticket trying to make it to the hospital?" she asked weaky, leaning into him as he helped her across the room to the sofa where she sat down and leaned back tentatively as though she were just waiting for the vice to grip her again.

"My own damn fault – every bit of it," he acquiesced, sitting down beside her – watching her face carefully to see if he could sense when the next wave of pain started to build momentum.

"Told you so," she muttered.

"You're always right," he said soothingly, leaning over and brushing his lips against her cheek. "So, can we go to the hospital now?"

"Absolutely," she breathed.

And with Jack's help, he hustled her out to the car and they were on their way.

***

Dear Kate,

Sawyer and Juliet have a new baby girl. You would think that Sawyer did it entirely by himself the way he goes on and on and brags about her. Juliet keeps reminding him that she did all the heavy lifting, but it doesn't faze him in the least. He's ecstatic. Every person within a 50 block radius of the courthouse is now the proud owner of a cigar with a label proclaiming, 'It's a girl'.

They named her Mary for his mother and Elizabeth for hers. Mary Elizabeth Ford. Not terribly original when you remember who we're talking about here – the original nickname machine. But I doubt she'll ever even hear her real name, anyway. He calls her Pumpkin. And Princess. And Angel. And Sweetiepie. And everything in the world but her name.

And Juliet's not any better. That child will be in kindergarten before she hears her given name spoken, I'll bet. They'll call out Mary Elizabeth Ford and she'll look around to see who has the same last name she does.

I've enclosed a picture of her wrapped in the pink blanket you made. She is pretty cute. Although I'm pretty sure Sawyer's claim that she's the most beautiful creature ever born is subjective. Mostly, to me, she looks like every other newborn baby I've ever seen – but don't tell him I said that – he'd think it was blasphemy.

I would explain why I didn't come to see you Tuesday but I think you're starting to doubt me. All I can tell you is that it really was an emergency and I really didn't have any other choice or I'd have been there.

I miss you, Kate. I know we've never talked about it, but standing there – watching them with that baby – seeing how happy they are. I want that for us someday, Kate. I'm not trying to push or rush or anything like that – but the idea of a baby that's a little piece of you and a little piece of me – all our best qualities put together and lying in our arms. I hold onto that hope, Kate. That someday, that'll be us.

How's that for mushy? Am I doing any better, Kate – with the letters I mean?

I will be there on visitation day, Kate. I know you won't believe me. I'm like the little boy who cried wolf by now. But nothing could keep me away from you, Kate. Count on it.

Give me one more chance.

I love you, Kate.

Yours always,

Jack

***

Dear Jack,

I love you. I'm not sure I've written that before so I thought I'd put it down in black and white and see how it looks.

It looks good.

I love you, Jack. And I look forward to seeing you next month. I'm going to save up everything I want to tell you for then – so you'll keep your promise. You'll have to come see me then – to hear all the tantalizing new prison gossip.

I've always been yours, Jack. And I always will be.

Love,

Kate

***

_Fourth Tuesday, March 2005 [A/N: Okay, now it's March sorry for the earlier mixup]_

It was raining.

The sky was dim and gray and the crack of lightning woke Jack.

Jack turned off his alarm clock before it even went off and hit the shower. He was excited and nervous. As he pulled on a knit shirt and jeans, his phone rang and he picked it up – ready to brush off anyone that was about to interrupt his plans. It was Sawyer.

"You're going, right?" Sawyer's voice was gravelly from sleep.

"Getting dressed right now."

"If she wants you to grovel, you grovel, hear?"

"I'll grovel," Jack said with a grin.

"Good. Call me tonight and tell me how it went. Juliet's taking our little buttercup to something called 'Baby and Me'. It's some kind of exercise class. Maybe we can grab a drink, watch the game?"

"Sounds good," Jack agreed. He wondered if Sawyer would need the company as much as he would – he was utterly infatuated with the baby and talked about her incessantly. Oh well, what were friends for, right?

Jack laid the phone in the cradle and went out to his car. He couldn't wait to see Kate.

***

She'd taken pains with her appearance – as much as she could here. She'd managed to get her hands on some nice smelling shampoo anyway and she'd manicured her nails the best she could – they were clean at any rate. Not every prison made the women dress in orange but unfortunately this one did. Orange was not her color.

Still, he was coming.

Sawyer had called yesterday on the pretext of needing to communicate with his client and assured her that Jack would be there with bells on. He'd also tried to sell her on the idea of parole once more. The parole hearing would be next month if she agreed to go through with it. She was going to discuss it with Jack, she'd decided. If Jack was okay with being tied to the greater Los Angeles area without relief for the next two years then she'd let Sawyer give it his best shot.

She was sick of the gray walls and the loneliness. The loneliness was nearly unbearable.

***

She waited in the little alcove where the prisoners were required to wait until their visitors arrive. Her name would be called when Jack arrived and she'd be escorted to the large family visitation room. Even though Jack wasn't, strictly speaking, her family – he was going to be allowed to visit. That had been part of the original plea agreement.

She waited.

And waited.

Her mind drifted to other things. To years ago when she had sat with Tom in the treehouse and planned her escape from the life she hated. She'd dreamed of freedom and had somehow managed to find for herself the opposite of that.

Visitation was from 9:00 am to 4:25 pm.

It was 4:23.

"Ready to go back to your cell, Austin?" the guard asked, not unkindly.

Kate didn't answer. She only nodded and allowed herself to be led away. She didn't shed a tear – there were none left.

***

"Is he?" Sawyer said, rising quickly to his feet as the surgeon emerged from the operating room.

"He came through the surgery. That's all I can say at the moment. We'll know more in the morning," the man said, speaking more to Jack's mother, Mrs. Shephard, than to Sawyer.

Sawyer flipped open his cellphone and dialed the first number on speed dial.

"Is he out of surgery?" Juliet asked. Sawyer could hear the baby fussing in the background – could imagine Juliet bouncing the little girl on her shoulder.

Sawyer's voice was ragged and hoarse. He wasn't crying but his eyes were wet.

"He made it through surgery," he managed to get out. "Jules, I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart. Do you want me to come down there? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't want you two getting in a car right now, okay? Promise me you'll stay put – where it's safe."

His voice was insistent and it broke Juliet's heart. "We'll stay right here, baby. Just come home to us as soon as you can, okay?"

"Will do."

"I hate to bring it up right now, but doesn't someone need to let Kate know what's happened?" Juliet asked, the baby had moved from fussing to full-scale screams now and Juliet sat down to try and maneuver the child to her breast.

"He made me promise not to," Sawyer said in defeat. "He said he's made enough excuses to her – that he doesn't want anyone else to tell her about the accident – he wants to tell her himself."

"James. He wasn't thinking straight. She has to know."

"I promised him, Juliet. I've let him down before – if he doesn't wake up – well, if he doesn't wake up I'll go see her and tell her myself. But for now. I'm keeping my word."

When the call disconnected, Juliet sat down and pulled her daughter close to her chest. She rocked back and forth and let the baby draw nourishment from her – and tears rolled down her cheeks. So many people she loved – hurting so badly – and nothing she could do to make it stop.

[A/N: Okay, go ahead. Beat me up – I deserve it. ]


	16. Chapter 16

Kate was called to the visitation room on a Saturday which was weird. Because it wasn't visitation day as she well knew, because she'd spent the last three days in a melancholy haze after Jack's failure to appear.

What was even weirder was that she didn't recognize the woman sitting at the table or the baby she was holding. She did recognize the pink blanket the baby was wrapped in. So, that made the woman Sawyer's Juliet.

"Hello," Kate said uncertainly.

Juliet rose to greet her and tucked the baby expertly into some sort of sling that she had wrapped around her upper body. She extended her hand and Kate took it.

"You must be Kate," Juliet said as they shook and then sat down at the table. "Did you get my thank you note?"

"I did. That was sweet of you, so you must be Juliet."

"That's right." Juliet looked hesitant. And when Kate looked closer at her she saw that her face was drawn and a bit pale – as though she hadn't been getting enough sleep – but new babies were notorious for not sleeping, right?

"But that's not why you're here," Kate said slowly, a sense of foreboding gathering in the pit of her stomach.

"No," Juliet said taking a deep breath. "I'm here because I didn't make any foolish promises like some people."

"What are you talking about? What sort of foolish promises?"

"It's a loophole, see?" Juliet kept right on talking. "Sawyer promised Jack he wouldn't say anything, but I didn't make any such promise so I can say whatever I want. And it's not right to keep it from you."

"Keep what from me? Jack. . .what? Did he get married or something?" The color was draining from Kate's face.

"No." Juliet said, reaching over and gathering Kate's hand between hers. "Nothing like that. No. Jack's crazy about you – you have to know that."

"I know that you and Sawyer believe that," Kate said already starting to withdraw.

"Jack was on his way here on Tuesday," Juliet began.

"Right," Kate snapped, sarcastically. She jerked her hand away from Juliet. She stood and turned to leave.

"He's hurt, Kate. He was in a car accident – an eighteen wheeler hit a slick spot and lost control. The driver may have been sleeping, they're not sure. Jack's lucky to be alive, Kate."

Kate stopped and went completely still.

"Kate?" Juliet said. When Kate didn't move, Juliet rose and approached her. She laid a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Kate, he's alive. But he's still in the hospital – he pulled through the surgery fine and he's on a lot of pain medication so he's not awake much. And when he is, he's not exactly coherent. But he's alive, Kate. That's the main thing."

Juliet expected tears. She expected to catch those tears on her shoulder or perhaps to have to steady the other woman. She was so frail – it was easy to see that she was wasting away in here.

But when Kate turned, her jaw was set and her eyes reflected rage and determination.

"He's alive," she said.

"Yes."

"But he's badly hurt?"

"They think he'll need a lot of physical therapy. And there's some nerve damage, but there's every indication he'll make a good recovery."

"And why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Because Jack had Sawyer's number programmed in as the emergency contact on his phone. They called him and he got to the hospital before they put Jack under for the surgery. And he was just coherent enough to make Sawyer promise not to make excuses for him – to make Sawyer promise that Jack could tell you what happened himself."

"And for the first time in his life, Sawyer decided to keep a promise?" Kate's tone was derisive.

"Well, not the very first time," Juliet said a little defensively. "And we kind of wanted to make sure that he was going to be okay before we told you that he was going to be okay."

"Gee, thanks for your concern." Kate's eyes were dry – right now, she was just plain mad. "So, if Sawyer were in a horrible accident and didn't make it home to you. You'd want someone to wait until they were sure he was okay before they let you know what happened?"

"Well, no."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm sorry, Kate."

"You should be. And Sawyer should be. And Jack's going to be. Call Sawyer and tell him to get up here and start planning my case before the parole board. Because there's no way I'm sitting in here while Jack's hurt and in pain and. . ." Kate started blinking rapidly and finished softly, " . . .he needs me."

The anger was burning out and it was starting to hit her.

"He's. . .he could've died." Kate's eyes were filling with tears now.

"But he didn't," Juliet said softly.

Kate's hand went to her mouth and pressed against her lips until they were white. She was shaking. Hesitantly, Juliet stepped closer and wrapped her arms around the other woman – drawing her close as Kate began to cry.

"Shhhh," Juliet murmured as Kate sobbed into her shoulder. The baby shifted in the sling and Juliet dropped one hand to stroke her daughter's head with a soothing touch. And she let Kate cry the tears that she would have cried on Tuesday if she'd known why Jack hadn't come.

***

"Don't tell me you can't get me a special hearing. Her behavior has been exemplary and her fiance's life is in peril." Okay, Sawyer thought, so that wasn't entirely the truth. She wasn't precisely Jack's fiancé and Jack was pretty much out of the woods. He wasn't going to die any minute or anything. But, Jack had darn near gotten killed trying to go see the woman and if there was any sort of cosmic justice he ought to get to see her. Besides, Sawyer could be stubborn himself when he wanted to be. More stubborn that Jack or Kate ever thought of being.

"Tomorrow," he said into the phone when the voice on the other end offered him April 10th. "I want a special parole hearing tomorrow."

"Yes," he said. "I understand that she'll have to agree to an extended parole. . .I don't think she cares. She just wants to be with him. Have a heart."

"I happen to know you have a heart, Lorraine. Or you used to back when we were dating. Come on, Sugar. For old time's sake," Sawyer's voice had deepened and the drawl thickened ever so slightly. Still, he held his breath. When all else failed, try a little of the old Ford charm. And. . .

. . .it worked.

_A/N: Okay, this is the absolute worst mangling of criminal law in the history of the world – there's no way that you do all the things Kate's done and get off this lightly – but it's still more than they gave her on the show so I'm going to beg for your mercy and ask you to suspend disbelief. Please._


	17. Chapter 17

Jack stared at the television screen above the hospital bed. There was nothing on it. He glanced at the remote control again – the one lying on the blanket by his left foot – the one he'd thrown there in frustration.

He could hit the call button.

If he hit the call button, the nurse would come back and he could get her to turn the television on. Or he could get her to send someone down to the cafeteria to find his mother who hadn't left his side since he woke up. At least, she hadn't left until he'd finally lost his temper today and yelled at her.

He hoped she was downstairs anyway. Standard Shephard protocol dictated that she was probably across the street with a nice stiff drink in her hand, but maybe she opted for coffee.

Maybe he could hit the call button and the nurse would give him something to make him sleep – so he wouldn't have to think about what he could and couldn't do. So, the words of his colleague – 'former colleague', his brain screamed at him – wouldn't echo in his head. Nerve damage.

Miracles happen, he'd said at the time. But that was before he'd tried to pick up that stupid remote control this morning and pressing those buttons had seemed about as easy as learning to play Fur Elise for his piano recital in the sixth grade. Okay, Fur Elise had been easier.

He would learn to use the remote again – he wasn't worried about that. But if he couldn't use a remote control – the delicate movements needed to perform spinal surgery were like a pipe dream.

The door squeaked a little when it opened and he turned his head to see Sawyer saunter in with his daughter's carrier in one hand and a stack of magazines rolled up in the other.

"Brought you some company," Sawyer said with that forced joviality that people use when they visit someone in the hospital.

"I didn't realize they let infants in here," Jack said forcing a grin.

"You're talking to MB right?" Sawyer said.

"MB?"

"Mary Beth – it's a slam at me, right?" Sawyer half-grinned at the bad joke and plopped the magazines onto the tray table. "You're going to want to hide those."

"What are they?" Jack said, loathe to lift his traitorous hands to sift through them.

"Uhm, sports magazines. Least the ones on top are. Look, hide 'em quick. I really did bring you company."

Jack set his jaw and picked up the magazine stack and pushed the top one out of the way.

"Really, Sawyer? You think I'm in the mood for playmate of the month?"

"Hope so," Sawyer said with a wink. He pushed the tray table aside with the magazines on it and glanced back toward the door. "Just so you know, you look like hell."

"Thanks."

"I'd offer to brush your hair, but I don't think it'd matter. You look awful."

"Yeah, I know. What difference does it make?"

"Look. It was Juliet not me. Okay? I didn't do it. You can thank Juliet."

"What?"

But Sawyer straightened the blanket a little which struck Jack as odd, leaned back and surveyed Jack in the bed with his right leg in traction and his face a mottled mess of purples and blues. There were bandages everywhere it seemed like and his left arm was in a sling. The right arm was free – it looked fine – but Sawyer didn't let his gaze rest on it because somehow – somewhere up there in his shoulder or his neck – something was pinched or twisted or otherwise maligned. That right hand looked okay but looks were deceiving.

"You're lucky," Sawyer said aloud.

"I don't feel all that lucky at the moment."

"Could have been worse. . .what if the truck had caught you full-on instead of clipping the bumper and spinning you round."

"What if there hadn't been a telephone pole there to wrap my car around?" Jack said sarcastically.

"Lucky." Sawyer nodded and there was that wink again. "And about to feel luckier if you've got any sense."

Jack leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes in frustration. He opened them when he heard the door swing closed again and realized that Sawyer had left.

He had just about planned up an appropriate smartass remark to great Sawyer with upon his return when the door squeaked open and the fingers he saw wrapped around the edge of it definitely didn't belong to Sawyer. A feminine hand held the door open and pushed a cart into the room.

The cart held a bouquet of 'Get Well' balloons (similar to the ones his mother had brought and he made her throw out), another stack of magazines, a stack of board games of all things, and what looked like a little overnight bag. There were also a couple of boxes that he couldn't help wondering about the contents of.

The cart came into the room first and behind it came a sight that made Jack decide Sawyer was right indeed.

He was lucky.

Kate's hair was down loose – smooth and shiny – sleek like she'd spent the whole morning on it. She wore a dress of her own – not one of those borrowed numbers from Sarah's closet. He'd never seen this before – the soft material clung to her body and the green shade matched her eyes. Those eyes. He'd lain awake at night for all these months dreaming of those eyes. Sparkling green – serious and troubled at the moment as they found him lying in the hospital bed.

"Kate, I can explain," Jack began, but he didn't get to finish.

She was across the room with her arms around his neck before the words were even out of his mouth.

"Ow," Jack said and she jerked back.

"I'm sorry, I – I'm sorry," she said, looking him up and down and tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"It's okay. Everything hurts all the time anyway," he reassured her. He lifted his hand, for once it did exactly what he wanted it to do, and she took it and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Oh Jack, if I'd known this would happen, I'd have never asked you to come see me," she said.

"If I'd come to see you sooner, I wouldn't have been so out of it that I wasn't paying attention to the road," he came back. "Speaking of which, how are you here anyway?"

"Parole," she said with a shrug. "Oh, and this."

Kate lifted her foot from the floor and rested it on the bed beside him. He swallowed hard. Her foot was encased in a white sandal with a high heel but his eye didn't stay on her foot, his eye ran up her leg to her thigh and couldn't help but notice that her skirt had ridden up and he could just barely see the lace of her . . .slip maybe? He swallowed – no, that wasn't her slip, that was the edge of her panties.

Okay, he realized, so there was no nerve damage in that one area he had wondered a little about.

When she cleared her throat, he realized that Kate had not actually intended to test his reflexes and that she was gesturing to the ankle bracelet instead. How had he missed that on the first glance?

"House arrest? Again." If Jack's face weren't so swollen, a goofy grin would have spread across it.

"Actually, if it's okay. For now, it's set to let me stay here at the hospital – keep you company. Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not at all," Jack said – this time the hand did not cooperate and it wavered in the air when he reached for her face, but she seemed to know his intention.

She took his hand between hers and kissed the tips of his fingers. It troubled him that he couldn't feel it, but she turned his hand over and kissed his palm – he felt that.

Kate lifted his hand to her cheek – where he'd planned to place it to begin with – and she leaned over him and touched her lips to his.

It hurt a little, but he didn't care. He managed to slide the hand behind her head and pull her closer to deepen the kiss. Okay, that hurt like hell but he really and truly didn't care.

"I love you," Kate whispered when they pulled apart.

"Will you wait for me?" Jack said, with a wry smile.

Kate glanced toward the window and bit her lip to hide a smile.

"Hmmmmm." She said.

"What?"

"I'll come visit you. On visitation day. You can count on it," she said mockingly.

"I was going to come."

"Oh, sure you were. I never saw anyone willing to go to such lengths to come up with a good excuse. A car accident, Jack?"

She was kidding – at least he hoped she was.

"I'll make it up to you," he said sincerely.

Kate threw back her head and laughed. "You're in no shape to make anything up to anybody. You're lucky I'm under house arrest. Or I'd dump you and find someone new."

"Oh you would, would you?" Jack teased back. "Who'd have you?"

"Nobody but you," she answered, and her tone was still teasing but their eyes locked on one another and they grew serious.

"Well, that's good." Jack said quietly.

"Yeah," Kate agreed. "That's good."

_A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. . .I suppose we are now due a few chapters of Jate together. . .unless you want more angst – but I thought we'd save that for a little later._


	18. Chapter 18

"No, I will not read to you," Kate said for the third time with a roll of her eyes. "The physical therapist wants you to use the hand – your ears are just fine."

"What's that you say?" Jack quipped. "Can't quite hear you."

"Pick a board game," Kate continued ignoring his attempt to deflect. "You need to use the hand."

"Come a little closer and we'll see what my hand can get up to."

"Nice try," Kate said leaning over and dropping a quick kiss onto Jack's nose. "_Operation_ or _Battleship_?"

"_Battleship_ has all those little pegs – that's cruel and unusual punishment," Jack complained. "And having you beat me at _Operation_ would destroy my ego."

"_Risk_?"

"Absolutely not. Spending time with you is risky enough."

"Being cute is not going to work. Pick a game or I'll pick."

Jack sighed but then seemed to have a thought that cheered him. "You think I'm being cute?"

"Adorable," Kate said with a quick chuckle. "And a little stoned from the painkillers. Oh! We have _Scrabble_. I love _Scrabble_."

"Then _Scrabble_ it is," Jack said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," she said, pulling the maroon box from the stack and moving to the foot of the bed where she sat down gingerly so as to cause as little pain to him as possible. He tried to hide his discomfort but even with the painkillers, every time he moved his face paled a little.

It had been a week since she first arrived at his hospital room complete with her new ankle bracelet. He looked better – his face was less swollen and although it was still a painful mosaic of blues, purples, and yellows – you could at least distinguish his expressions now. His doctor's comment that he was 'healing nicely' just pissed Jack off and he'd had Kate steal his chart so that he could look at it himself.

"So?" Kate had said as she stood by the door keeping watch lest a nurse showed up and catch them with the contraband documents.

"I'm healing nicely,"Jack muttered, dropping the cover closed on the chart which lay on his tray table.

"I love you," Kate had said shaking with laughter as she glided across the room and plucked the chart from the tray table. She had the chart back at the nurse's station before anyone was the wiser for her minor criminal infraction.

It had become a bit of a game, each day after the doctor came and went Kate would slip out to snag the chart and Jack would read what his doctor had written – this morning for instance, they had learned that they were coming to take his leg out of traction later that day and that the physical therapist was concerned with what she called his lack of motivation.

Kate had taken it upon herself to motivate him.

Now, she pulled the tray table over between them and set the box on top.

"Can you reach?" she asked as she pulled the board out and squared it up.

"I need to sit up more," Jack said.

"Use the remote," Kate said pulling the racks out that held the tiles and placing one in front of herself and one in front of Jack.

"Can't you do it for me?" Jack whined just a little.

Kate raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Jack said hoping she couldn't see how much concentration it took him to pick up the controller and fumble with the buttons. He tried not to think about the delicate skill that was needed for his chosen profession – skill that might be lost forever. He tried to focus on how lucky he was to be sitting in this room with the woman he loved. But it wasn't easy, until he looked up and caught her eye.

She smiled at him and it was like someone had lifted a weight off his chest. She was here. It was enough – for now.

"Draw your tiles," she encouraged and he moaned inwardly but he managed to place the seven tiny objects into his rack. That was the bright side, the down side was that he was sweating like he'd just run a marathon by the time he finished. He glanced at her anxiously to see if she'd noticed but if she had, she hid it well.

She was biting her lip and studying her letters. He thought she looked pretty adorable herself – in fact, adorable didn't even begin to cover it.

"Can I go first?" she asked looking up and catching him staring at her. He'd been thinking that the white t-shirt she was wearing was quite snug and hoping that when she washed it, it got a bit tighter still. He lifted his eyes to hers sheepishly.

"Sure. I need a minute to rest up," he said.

She laughed easily and gathered her tiles to place her word.

"Arouses. Shall I use it in a sentence?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, definitely," Jack said a little surprised at the nature of her word.

"The idea of sitting on your bed. . .arouses. . .my curiosity." Her tone was deliberately innocent, but she winked.

"Uh-huh," Jack said with a twinkle in his eye. "Good word. Give me a minute, huh?"

"Take as much time as you need," Kate said drawing letters to replace the ones she'd used.

S L R U T A X. Hmmm, he could go for the obvious he supposed, building on the E with his S and X. But that seemed a little too obvious. Maybe LUST? Nah. Oh!

He selected his tiles carefully and placed the on the board building on the E after all.

"Steal." He said proudly.

"I'm not sure that's a word," Kate said coyly. "Use it in a sentence."

"Sure," Jack agreed. "The last time you were in my bed, you had a tendency to STEAL all the covers."

"Oh, I did, huh?"

"Yep. Not that I minded."

"Yes, I didn't remember you complaining. My turn."

Kate plucked up her letters and clicked them into place with a zeal that revealed a certain competitive streak Jack hadn't realized she possessed before today.

"TATTOO." She said with a wink. "Your TATTOO is in a much less interesting spot than mine."

"Wait, you have a tattoo?"

"You mean you didn't notice?"

"No. Where?"

"Hmmm, I'll show you when we get you home. And they won't release you until you make progress in your physical therapy. So. . ."

"So?"

"So, play your word Dr. Shephard – the tiles await."

Jack groaned and focused on drawing out letters from the box so he could make his next word.

"Where did you get so good at Scrabble anyway?" Jack asked, hoping that if she was talking she wouldn't notice how long it was taking him to accomplish such a simple task.

"When I was on the run I got this job taking care of the yard and housekeeping for this older lady – she couldn't pay me much – she was on a fixed income. But she had a garage apartment where she let me stay and I didn't have to have a background check or anything."

"Nice gig," Jack teased, turning red as he dropped a tile on the bed and had to struggle to retrieve it.

"Actually, it kind of was. In the evenings, she had this routine. Every night, I'd come over to wash dishes after she'd eaten her dinner and she'd watch the news. Then Wheel of Fortune – she loved Pat Sajak."

"I had a crush on Vanna White when I was a kid," Jack admitted.

"You're kidding?" Kate laughed.

"Like you never had an embarrassing crush. I bet you liked New Kids on the Block."

"Did not," she said but she wasn't meeting his eye.

Jack quit messing with the tiles and enjoyed watching her discomfort. "What were their names? Joe, Bob, Neal and Frank?"

"That is not even close," Kate said with an exasperated huff.

"Not that you'd know since you weren't a fan," he teased.

"I don't remember all their names but there were five of them – not four. Jordan and Joey were two of them – I think. But I didn't have a crush on them."

"No, of course not," Jack said with mock sincerity.

"Are you ever going to put a word down?" Kate inquired. "My word was tattoo, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," Jack said trying to think which spots he hadn't gotten a good look at in the dark.

"Word, Jack. Play your word."

"I'm thinking. So, Wheel of Fortune?" he said returning to the conversation's original track.

DJKFRUX. Ugh. This was worse than before. He studied the board and tried to figure out what he could make use of.

"Are you allowed to have the A in Tatoo mash up against the S like that?" He asked now that he'd taken a good look at the board.

"As long as it spells a word," Kate assured him. "Ms. McGillicuddy was very particular about her Scrabble. After Wheel of Fortune, she'd always call me into the living room and ask if I wanted to play."

"And you always did," Jack guessed.

"Almost always," Kate said with a wistful smile. "I might have stayed there forever – she was such a sweet little lady."

"But?" Jack asked.

"She passed away one night in her sleep. Went to bed thinking about Pat Sajak and just drifted away I guess," Kate shrugged.

Jack finally gave up trying to find a sexy word and went with the only one he could assemble from the letters at hand.

"FORK," he said with a grimace.

"Sentence?" Kate prompted.

"You know what a fork is, Kate."

"Be creative, Jack. Or I won't show you my tattoo."

It occurred to Jack that if the physical therapist were as good at motivation as Kate was, she'd be in much higher demand. He rolled it around in his head a minute, then his look turned a bit lecherous.

"Fork over the location of the tattoo, Kate. Or do you just like torturing me?"

Kate sat up straighter and ran her fingers around the waistband of her jeans. She hooked her fingers around the button pausing dramatically.

Jack's eyes were glued.

Kate took her hands away and laughed. "At home." She said firmly. "And it's not where you're thinking anyway. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You were leading me down the gutter," he insisted. "Can I get a hint?"

"What kind of hint?"

"What's it a picture of?"

"It's not a picture – it's a word. And that's the only hint you get today. Isn't it my turn?"

"Yes, it is. Show me what you got."

Kate grinned then slid her tiles one by one across the board with the tip of her finger to line up underneath AROUSES, using the K and L already on the board.

"KILLING."

"Sentence."

"It's KILLING you not knowing how you missed that tattoo, isn't it?"

She started laughing and Jack joined in although laughter was one of the many things that caused him pain. His ribs miraculously weren't broken but they were badly bruised.

It was a good day. When Kate stole the chart the next morning, Jack noticed that the doctor had made a note that the patient's morale was steadily improving. Jack decided maybe the doctor wasn't as dumb as he'd originally thought.

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the nice reviews! As for this chapter, I'm pretty sure those Scrabble words will line up okay – they did on the notecard – I'm not sure there are that many S's and R's in the game but how dull would it have been for them to use words like Cat and Dog? Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. _


	19. Chapter 19

Kate sank onto the sofa in the small apartment near the hospital that Sawyer had helped her find. Her range was two blocks which meant the hospital was on the outer edge of her perimeter as she'd discovered when she went to get coffee on the far side of the hospital one morning and her ankle had started beeping at her.

She'd have stayed at the hospital day and night if the conditions of her parole had allowed it. Unfortunately, she was required to be gainfully employed. It had taken all the rabbits that Sawyer could pull out of his hat to come up with a job for her within two blocks of the hospital. Actually, he hadn't managed that at all - but he'd called on the man he'd met on the plane months ago. The one who'd offered to help him find a job for Kate - Hugo Reyes. And he'd arranged to hire her to work from her home. That had almost snagged up the parole hearing but the employment letter had come through at the last minute before the hearing took place.

At the time, it had seemed like a godsend. But now it seemed like a form of torture - pulling her between a job she was struggling to keep up with and the hospital where Jack was. Something had to give - a sacrifice was necessary.

So instead of sacrificing time with Jack, she was sacrificing sleep. From 4 am to 8 am every day, she made sales calls to the east coast selling – of all things – boxes. Then she took a quick nap and was showered and ready to go to the hospital by the time visiting hours began at 10 am. Then after a day of trying to keep Jack's spirits up, she returned to the apartment around 10 pm to write up the sales reports from earlier in the day and try to catch another quick nap before she did it all again.

It was beginning to wear on her though. The exhaustion permeated her entire body and she wanted nothing more than to make the aged tan sofa-bed out into its bed form and sleep the entire night for once. She loved being with Jack – well, most of the time she did – the longer he was confined to that hospital bed, the more he whined.

She chastised herself for the thought. He had every right to complain, didn't he? His entire livelihood depended on his hands and while the left hand was recovering well – his dominant hand – his right hand was still struggling with the most basic tasks.

At least he was supposed to go home at the first of the week, she thought. But that posed an entirely new set of difficulties. When she'd been released on house arrest, she'd thought having her base set up two blocks from the hospital was perfect. But in hindsight, it had been shortsighted at best. Jack's home was miles from here in the suburbs and while the little apartment with the sofa-bed and the two barstools at the breakfast nook had been adequate for her needs – it was no place to bring someone recovering from a number of major surgeries. Someone who was still on crutches.

As if his mother would have stood for that, anyway, she thought with an internal sigh.

She leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes – just for a couple of minutes – and sank into a deep and much needed sleep.

Jack pushed the buzzer on the side rail of the bed again in frustration. He was in pain, damn it. And where was the nurse with his painkillers? He was sure it had been at least six hours and he was supposed to get them every four. And where was Kate? She was always here by now.

When the door opened, Jack snarled, ready to attack whichever latecomer had finally had the decency to show up but instead of the nurse or Kate, Juliet stood in the doorway with her daughter cradled in her arm. She held up a white bakery box and a sugary scent drifted over to Jack where he lay.

"What? Nothing homemade?" Jack said grumpily.

Juliet cocked her head and gave him a level stare. "You don't really want anything I baked, surely."

"You can't be as bad a cook as Sawyer says," Jack returned, with every intention of putting Sawyer in the doghouse if at all possible.

"Oh, but I am," Juliet said mildly. "All part of my master plan to have him do all the cooking for the next thirty or so years." She winked.

"You should make him do all the cleaning too," Jack said, eyeing the box as she set it on the tray table by the bed. "Doughnuts?"

"Crème-filled. With raspberry glaze," Juliet said, leaning her hip against the bed and turning the baby so that Jack could see her.

Even Jack couldn't stay in a bad mood with that angelic little face cooing at him.

"Want to hold her?" Juliet said, noting the softening of his brow.

"I'd probably drop her," Jack grunted, but he extended his pinky finger and smiled when she clasped it in her tiny fist.

"She survives Sawyer holding her," Juliet pointed out.

Almost against his own volition, Jack extended his arms, now sans cast, and Juliet settled the child into them. She was bigger than the last time he'd held her – back before the accident – in fact, it was hard to believe she could grow this fast.

"Well, hey there," Jack murmured to the little blonde. He looked up at Juliet. "She gets prettier every day – just like her mother."

"Why, thank you. Be sure to tell Sawyer that when he comes up – I think he's forgotten."

Sawyer pushed through the door with a laundry bag slung over his shoulder like Santa Claus. "No need. I heard it. And I haven't forgotten anything – if her majesty there would sleep through the night I'd show you exactly what I haven't forgotten."

Juliet laughed and Jack pressed a hand over the baby's ears.

"They've forgotten we're here," he said in a stage whisper to the little girl and they all laughed easily at that.

"Kate says you're getting out of here Monday if all goes well," Sawyer said, settling the bag of clean laundry onto the one chair, then thinking better of it, moving it to the floor and gesturing for Juliet to take the seat.

"They think I can manage the crutches, now," Jack admitted. "Now that the cast on my arm is gone and my ribs are mostly mended. It's just a matter of physical therapy now I guess."

"Speaking of Kate," Juliet said glancing around. "I didn't think she left your side during visiting hours – did you piss her off?"

"I don't know where she is," Jack said and the bitterness crept back into his voice.

Juliet glanced at Sawyer who shrugged then picked up the remote and switched on the game – the sport of the moment was baseball – although Jack's beloved Sox weren't playing. It was Saturday afternoon and the Fords seemed perfectly content to lounge around Jack's hospital room and keep him company. The only problem was that they weren't the company Jack wanted.

Kate awoke with a start and winced at the crick in her neck. She hadn't meant to sleep – just rest her eyes – but a glance out the window was enough to reveal that she had been asleep for hours. She pushed herself to her feet and moved toward the bathroom where the mirror revealed that beauty-sleep was a misnomer. With a sigh, she turned on the shower as hot as she could stand it before she went in search of a clock and found out exactly how much of her life she'd slept away.

It was dark in the hospital when Kate crept into the room and tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

"Where were you?" Jack demanded.

"Oh, you're still awake," Kate said flushing a little. It was 8 o'clock – in the evening. When she'd finally found a clock and discovered it was after six in the evening, she'd spent a good hour trying to make up for the work she'd missed and finally realizing that it was much later on the east coast – no one cared about boxes at that time of night – giving up and calling her supervisor to beg forgiveness for her shortcomings. The call had not gone especially well but she hadn't been fired at least. So her parole was intact.

"Why did you bother coming if you didn't think I'd be awake," Jack snapped at her. "Are you avoiding me?"

"That doesn't even make sense, Jack," Kate said, pasting on a smile. He was in such a bad mood lately – that state of feeling lucky to be alive having faded a little with each passing day of inactivity.

"Oh, so I don't make sense. And I'm not worth visiting while I'm awake," Jack snapped again and she realized that he was itching for a fight. Her tone became patronizing and though she knew it would only make it worse, she couldn't stop herself.

"Of course, you're worth visiting – or I wouldn't be here," she said. She found herself apologizing. "I fell asleep and then I had so much work to catch up on. . .and I got here just as soon as I could."

"How long did you sleep?" Jack asked and something in his voice threw a switch. She'd been giving up sleep for weeks – spending every hour she could at his side – spending hours when she could have been working – or sleeping – or doing any of a hundred things besides getting bitched at by Jack over an accident that she had only been marginally responsible for if that.

"Good night, Jack," she said evenly, picking up her purse and turning to go. She was seething.

"Wait! Don't go!" Jack was panicked. He'd pushed it too far and knew it. "Please?"

She turned to face him but didn't budge. The half light in the room framed her in the doorway, her dark curls caught up in loose French twist with tendrils falling down as though she'd fixed it in a hurry. The t-shirt and jeans that she gravitated toward when she didn't have an eye to fashion. The set of her jaw letting him know that she was still angry.

"I'm sorry. I'm being an ass. We could play cards?" he offered.

She said nothing.

"Or we could play that other game?" he said, his voice dropping an octave.

She set her purse on the floor and took a step toward him.

"What other game?" and there was a hint of suggestion in her voice too.

"Connect the dots," he said catching her eye – those wickedly sparkling green eyes.

"That's not a game," Kate teased. "That's therapy. And what if we get caught?"

"We're grown-ups," Jack defended. "Besides, I work here. If I call the nurse's station and tell them room 23 isn't to be disturbed for the next. . .say. . .twenty minutes."

"Better make it a half- hour," Kate said, placing her hand on the back of the straight chair and turning to slide it toward the door. "At least."

Jack wet his lips and watched as she pushed the chair under the door handle – wondered if the sway of her hips was intentional or whether she always moved like that and he never noticed before. She turned to him and her hand went to the back of her head to pull whatever was holding the French twist from her hair. As her curls fell around her shoulders she gave them a shake – oh yeah, she was doing that intentionally. He'd bet money on it.

He sorted through the covers for the cordless phone and felt a moment of triumph when his fingers found the right buttons.

"This is Dr. Shephard. Yeah, the one in Room 23. Listen. I'm being released Monday bright and early – I sure could use a good night's sleep – you don't suppose you could ask the nurse to skip rounds on this room til morning? Or at least until midnight or so? Yeah, I've got someone sitting with me – she'll come get you if anything happens. Yeah, I'm sure."

As he spoke, Kate had come to sit on the edge of the bed. She turned her back to him and caught the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head. He hoped he was making sense on the phone. He reached out to touch her but she must have anticipated his move because she turned and grasped his hand between hers and pulled his fingers to her lips – kissing each fingertip.

He hit the button to end the call and dropped the phone. He wasn't in traction any more – although the cast still had him weighted down. The last time they played this game, he'd been in traction and he had come to admire Kate as much for her creativity as for her beauty and charm.

She leaned in close to him, not releasing his hand, which itched to trace the lace that outlined her bra. She was almost close enough to kiss before she stopped and spoke to him in a throaty whisper that set his blood boiling.

"Now, you know the rules. You have to connect all the dots and then you get a prize."

"Can I use my good hand?" Jack inquired – not really giving a damn which hand he got on her at the moment – so long as he could touch that milky skin covered with that sprinkling of freckles.

"That's the prize," Kate teased dipping her head so that those curls brushed his face and set him on fire. "If you connect the dots, you get to use both hands."

"Turn around," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She turned her back to him and released his hand with another quick kiss to the palm. Then she slid further up onto the bed, pulling her knees up under her chin – her bare back exposed to him. He reached forward and brushed her hair off her back and over her shoulder.

Therapy.

"One," he whispered in the dark.

He touched a freckle on her left shoulder lightly with his index finger and he felt her tense ever so slightly. Then he drew the finger down her back to a freckle just above her waist on the right side. She shivered.

"Two."

He trailed the finger up to her right shoulder just under her bra.

"Three."

Kate slid her own hand behind her and expertly unclasped the mechanism holding the bra in place. The silky fabric dropped away and Jack traced the faint ridge it had created on her back.

"Four."

Kate peeked over her shoulder at him – her pupils were dilated and he supposed his own were as well.

"Are you sure that's a freckle?"

"I'm sure," he said, hoping she'd turn around. They'd made it to six the last time they played this game.

Kate's eyes didn't leave his and he drew the fingertip down her side, and around the edge of her jeans bringing another shiver.

"Five."

She turned around and dove at him, carefully avoiding the bad leg but planting a kiss full on his mouth – a hungry kiss – and his hands were all over her.

They might not be ready for surgery yet – but for this – they seemed to be finding their way just fine.

_Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it's taken me so long. Haven't had any time for this lately. _


	20. Chapter 20

Kate stretched her arms overhead and turned her neck side to side to work the kinks out. She had fallen asleep in her chair out of sheer exhaustion and now she was paying for it.

"You were out for like, two minutes," Sawyer reassured her from his seat across the aisle. He was holding a novel which he made a show of trying to read but she could swear in the last eleven hours he hadn't moved off page 42.

"Did they come out and say anything?" She got to her feet and started gathering the trash that had accumulated around them.

"In the last two minutes?" Sawyer said trying to suppress an eyeroll. "Nope. Nothing. But he's not even out cold right? I mean, they said they'd have to keep him semiconscious so they'd know if they were getting it right."

Kate nodded absently, her mind in the operating room where the neurologist was doing one last surgery on Jack's shoulder – this new guy seemed almost positive that's where the problem was – and after talking to him, even Jack had seemed hopeful. They'd been warned it would be a lengthy procedure and Juliet had taken the baby home long ago. Jack's mother paced the length of the room pretty much ignoring the other two people who had stayed for the duration. Not out of dislike but simply lost in her own worry.

Jack's morale had deteriorated when he'd been released. Week after week, he'd gone to see his physical therapist and waited to be released for surgery. Week after week, he'd been encouraged to explore other areas of medicine. And week after week, he'd sank deeper into depression.

Now, six months later, this surgery was a glimmer of hope – and that glimmer had come almost too late.

Two weeks ago, Kate had come home to her apartment from the market on the corner and found him lying on her couch nursing a beer with a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table in front of him.

Kate marched past him and set the grocery bag on the table without saying a word.

"This is the last beer," Jack called from the sofa. "Hope you brought more."

Kate gritted her teeth and tried to count to ten. . .she made it to three before she came unglued.

"Why aren't you at therapy?" she demanded, jerking the bottle from his hand and sloshing beer onto his shirt and the rug but not really caring.

"What's the point?" he said. "It doesn't do any good. Give me back my. . ."

Kate glared at him and took the bottle to the sink and upended it. Then she slammed it into the sink shattering it into a million slivers of glass.

"Hey!"

"Get out." She said the words without tears. Cut them off sharp like daggers.

"Look, I'm sorry," Jack started but she had to do it while she had the courage. Things weren't getting better – they were getting worse. There was so much good in Jack – so much he really could fix in the world – but right now he was just sinking into the mire of his own depression and couldn't even fix himself.

"Leave, Jack. And give me your key," she held out her small white palm and he stared at it in disbelief.

"Because I had a few beers and skipped therapy?"

"Because you haven't been to therapy in a week – because you haven't given it any real effort in the last three – because you're more than a surgeon, Jack. You're a healer – a good man – maybe a great man. But I can't watch what you're doing to yourself – I can't watch you drown, Jack. And I can't seem to save you – so. . .I need you to go, Jack. Before you take me down with you."

There was pleading in her voice – desperation – and a sliver of terror. Because he was everything she'd ever wanted – or he had been – until the injury that seemed to overshadow everything else. And he couldn't seem to understand that it wasn't the injury itself that had made him less a man – it was his failure to accept it and move on. He couldn't let go of what he had been – and move on to what he might be.

And she just couldn't stand watching it for another second.

Her tears were mirrored in his eyes and wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the key she'd given him the day he was released from the hospital. He laid it in the palm she'd extended to him face up.

"So, this is it?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Until you. . ." she didn't have words.

"I understand," Jack said quietly – knowing what she meant but unsure how to go about finding the man he used to be.

xxx

In his own living room, he gave into the self-pity. He didn't blame her – he blamed himself – and he didn't stop blaming himself until he was passed out on the sofa and every drop of vodka in the bottle was coursing through his bloodstream.

xxx

He lived at the bottom of a bottle for a week before he came up for air. And oddly enough, he came up for air because no one had checked on him – not Kate, not Sawyer, not even his mother. How pathetic did you have to be for your own mother to give up on you, he wondered.

So, with a massive hangover, he climbed into the shower and tried to wash away some of the stench of failure. He shaved and put on a clean shirt. And when he opened the door, the light hurt his eyes but he fumbled in his jacket pocket for his shades and stumbled out anyway.

Every day that week he went to therapy – and every night that week – he tried to summon the nerve to call Kate.

xxx

Kate wasn't doing much better.

Although she was damned if she was going to let him turn her into a drunk, too.

Instead, she ran.

Not away this time – she was sick of running away – she simply strapped on the running shoes Jack had given her as a gift what seemed like forever ago – and she circled her block. Trying to edge out the emotional pain by pushing herself until she was in physical pain. She ran until she was so exhausted that sleep was inevitable and then she fell into a hard slumber filled with haunting dreams.

She woke up one morning with a blinding headache puking her guts out. When she got afraid that she'd lose consciousness and no one would know, she called Sawyer.

And then she decided maybe she'd feel better if she just gave in and passed out.

xxx

She woke up as she was being lifted from the floor and carried to the sofa by a pair of strong arms.

"Easy," she heard a female voice saying.

"Where do you want her?" a familiar southern drawl.

"The couch," the female voice came into focus – Juliet – why was Juliet at her apartment? She was at her apartment wasn't she? Was she drunk? No, she'd remember that – why was her head so fuzzy then? Must be drunk. Hard to think.

Then she was out again.

xxx

Kate woke again in the hospital and for a moment she thought maybe the last six months had been a dream – Jack hadn't spiraled into the abyss and she'd just drifted off to sleep in a chair by his bed.

But as she lifted her hand to press it to her aching head, she felt the tug of an I.V. and it came back to her. Or parts of it did, she remembered waking up sick and vaguely remembered calling Sawyer for help. Her head felt heavy as she turned it to see if anyone was sitting beside her.

xxx

At the sound of the rustling pillow, Jack's head jerked up from where he'd had his face buried in his hands in a state of almost-prayer.

"Kate," he said in relief.

"Jack?" her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

"Sawyer called when they brought you in. He said to meet them here – I never got around to telling him that we . . "

"Me neither," she said, her voice raspy. "Water?"

Jack nodded and started to go look for a nurse but impulsively, he leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I missed you," he said with an apologetic grin.

She licked at her parched lips and started to speak but he squeezed her hand and was gone before she could gather her thoughts.

xxx

Jack returned with a cup of crushed ice and Juliet in tow. Juliet waited patiently while Jack shoveled the ice between Kate's cracked lips with a plastic spoon before stepping forward with a pen light to check Kate's pupils and then her heart rate and pulse.

She offered a reassuring smile that made Kate feel a bit better immediately. She had an excellent bedside manner, probably better than Jack's, Kate thought. Then she felt a tug of guilt because it seemed like a disloyal thing to think.

"You gave us a scare," Juliet said easily. "You're dehydrated and we've been giving you fluids all day. We've run some tests."

"Is she pregnant?" Jack jumped in before Juliet could finish. And Kate saw a flash of annoyance on Juliet's otherwise schooled expression.

Suddenly, Kate felt a hint of panic. Oh god. No. She couldn't be pregnant. But maybe she could – she and Jack weren't always entirely careful – especially those last few weeks when he'd used sex to distract her every time she tried to ask how his therapy was going – and she had been really sick first thing in the morning – she tried to count back but her mind was still a little fuzzy – and with things like they were between her and Jack right now. . .

She felt Juliet's hand patting her arm and she looked up into her reassuring gaze.

"You're not pregnant," Juliet said soothingly but firmly. "Just dehydrated – run down – a little malnourished. With a mild case of heat exhaustion to top it off. In short, you aren't taking care of yourself and it caught up with you."

Kate heaved a sigh of relief and then glanced at Jack who looked. . .well, he looked. . . could you look both relieved and disappointed at the same time? If you could, Jack did.

"I'm so sleepy," she heard herself saying and realized it was true.

Juliet patted her hand again. "Get some rest. You need it. And Jack, I need to speak with you when you have time."

The door had barely closed when Jack sat down on the edge of Kate's bed and took the hand unencumbered by the IV. He raised it to his lips and kissed it gently.

"I'm so sorry," he said and she nodded hoping he knew what she meant – but her eyelids were so heavy that she couldn't keep them open long enough to answer.

xxx

Juliet emerged from one of the Labor and Delivery rooms to find Jack waiting for her looking like he was waiting for a scolding from his teacher.

She almost laughed. It didn't take much to make her smile at the moment actually – she'd just delivered a beautiful baby boy to a young Australian girl who was in the country on tour with her rock star boyfriend. The boyfriend, who apparently played in some band called Driveshaft that was having a reunion tour, kept hugging her and telling her she had backstage passes for life.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Juliet said trying to sound cool but it was tough after leaving a room filled with utter joy and delight.

"About?"

"Tell me you didn't break up with Kate."

"I didn't break up with Kate."

"Good."

"She broke up with me."

"Jack," the exasperation in Juliet's voice wasn't faked this time.

"Look, I'm getting it back together okay. It was a wake-up call – THIS was a wake-up call. When Sawyer called and said you guys found her unconscious in her apartment – all I could think was that I should have been there."

"You should have," Juliet agreed. "What did you do?"

"I came straight here."

"No, Jack. I mean, what did you do to make her break up with you? The girl's head over heels gone over you. You're like – I don't know, Jack – the wind beneath her wings or something corny like that. Not to mention the way you feel about her."

"I. . ."

"Can you fix it?" Juliet interrupted.

"I don't know," Jack said miserably. "It may be too late."

"Well, don't go around saying stuff to scare her to death!"

"What did I say to scare her?" Jack demanded defensively.

"Well, I hate to break it to you but if you guys are having trouble, 'pregnant' probably wasn't a word she wanted to hear when she was already feeling like crap."

"You seemed pretty happy to hear the word 'pregnant' a while ago, " Jack shot back.

"Of course, I was happy to hear the word pregnant, you idiot. We'd been trying for months - I was taking fertility drugs."

"But Sawyer said. . .I mean, I got the idea it was an accident."

"I'm a fertility specialist, Jack. You really think I got pregnant by accident?"

"Well, no. I mean, I thought it was odd. But he said. . ."

"He didn't want people to know we used fertility drugs, Jack. He took it as some sort of affront to his manhood or something that we couldn't just. . .well, that we needed a little help."

"But, that's kind of ridiculous – even for him."

Juliet raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I guess it does kind of sound like something he'd get in his head, but I thought. . .I mean,. . .you didn't want to get married at first, right?"

"I didn't want to get married until he wanted to get married for the right reasons – I don't expect you to understand, Jack. You and Kate have a whole different set of obstacles to get through – just – don't give up – get through them. I promise you it's worth it."

Jack's mouth quirked and his question skeptical. "Being married to James Sawyer Ford is worth all the obstacles?"

"Being in love is worth all the obstacles, Jack," she said with exaggerated patience. "Now, go fix it. Scoot. I don't have time to babysit you and Kate and play cupid any more today."

She made little sweeping motions with her hands to send him on his way and he chuckled as it occurred to him that it probably was worth a hell of a lot if he had a shot at making Kate as happy as Juliet looked right now.

xxx

This time it was Kate chained to a bed with an IV in her arm. But once again, the enforced confinement pushed them together and left them with nothing to do but talk things out.

And even when he drove her home and helped her settle onto her couch, her weariness kept them sitting on the sofa talking for hours – with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder – talking until they fell asleep and then waking up to talk some more.

It wasn't all pleasant – there were harsh things that had to be said – dark things that had to come into the light.

But eventually, as she lounged on the sofa with her head propped on a pillow he'd brought from her bed and he returned with the icy glass of orange juice she'd requested and placed it into her hand – a look passed between them.

A look that wasn't remotely convalescent or comforting.

It was a look that started with him catching sight of the lace of her bra protruding from the neck of her tanktop. She followed his eye and a slow smile spread across her freckled face. She brought the orange juice to her lips and sipped then licked her lips.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" she said lazily, running the tip of her finger around the edge of her glass.

He knelt beside the couch and placed his hand around the juice glass with his good hand while the one that gave him trouble sought out the lacy temptation.

"Something I haven't seen in a while," he said back as she heard the click of the glass setting down on the coffee table.

She lifted herself up onto her elbows and caught his eyes with her own. His hand had slipped beneath the lace and she shuddered slightly which was all the invitation he needed. He cupped the back of her head with one hand and slid the other around her waist to crush her against him.

"I missed you so much," she murmured as his lips left hers and traveled down her neck.

"Mmmmm," was all the answer she got – and all she wanted.

xxx

Now, Kate sat on pins and needles in the surgery waiting room. It had been three days since she and Jack had gotten lost in each other on her sofa. Two days since the neurologist Jack had sent his x-rays to had called to say he could squeeze Jack in for the surgery if Jack still wanted to try. One day since she and Jack had agreed that regardless of the outcome, they would be okay as long as they were together.

"I could become a janitor," Jack had teased.

"Mmm, I kind of have a thing for janitors," Kate had teased back.

"It's the uniforms, right? The coveralls."

"I just love a man in uniform," Kate had said with a giggle. "Or maybe it's that I love a man out of uniform."

"You know," Jack had replied whipping the sheet aside to reveal his lack of uniform. "I just happen to be out of uniform right this second."

"Mmmm," Kate had answered. And it turned out, Jack liked that answer just as well as she had on the sofa that day.

xxx

Kate's hands were locked together, twisting and turning, her thumbnail chewed down to the quick. She started when Sawyer laid a hand over hers and jerked his head toward the door that had just swung open.

Then she was standing beside Sawyer as the surgeon spoke the words she'd been hoping to hear.

"I can't be entirely sure of course," he was saying. "But. . .I'm almost positive. . ."

". . .it worked."

xxx

_A/N: A few of you seemed to want me to, so I thought I'd finish it. You knew there was bound to be a little more angst in store but I tried not to make it too terribly angsty. Want an epilogue?_


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

"You're going to get yourself in trouble over this one. I'm tellin' ya, she's hot," Sawyer said, waving his beer at Jack to emphasize his point. The baseball game droned in the background and both men were half-paying attention.

"Nah, it's just the hormones," Jack returned, picking up a handful of pretzels from the tray that sat on the coffee table in front of them. "She's freezing me to death. I woke up this morning and there were icicles hanging off my nose. Checked the thermostat and she had it set on 58! 58! In December!"

"Don't care if she sets it on 32. If she says she's hot – she's hot. You've just got to roll with it – buy extra socks – whatever. Trust me, you can't win on this. Don't matter whose idea it was to get pregnant either – once she's knocked up – every damn thing that happens to her is your fault."

"What's that?" Juliet's voice floated over the back of the sofa as she dangled Sawyer's two year old daughter in front of him and he reflexively pulled her into his lap and set the beer out of her reach.

"I take the fifth," Sawyer said looking up sheepishly.

"Riiiiiggght," Juliet said, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "It does seem a little stuffy in here now that you mention it. Maybe we should just turn the thermostat down a tad."

Sawyer shot up with his daughter clutched against him and gaped at her in alarm.

"You're not?"

Juliet laughed at his expression.

"No," she said still chuckling. "Don't worry. I'm not. Two's plenty for me. I'm the one who's been pregnant or nursing for practically the past three years without relief. Not that I don't love every minute of it," she amended quickly giving her daughter a quick grin.

Sawyer tried not to look too relieved. He still hadn't quite gotten over the shock of finding out Juliet was pregnant again when their little princess was barely eight months old. After all, it had been so damn hard to get pregnant the first time – the truth was he'd been in shock for most of the second pregnancy and remembered precious little of it. Neither did Juliet if truth were told. But they'd welcomed the second addition with as much pomp and circumstance as the first – if not moreso to make up for their surprise.

Sawyer called the new addition, Pudding Pop and had since months before she'd made her appearance. Jack suspected Juliet had experienced a related craving or something. . .he wondered what Kate would say if he referred to their impending arrival as Jalapenos and chocolate sauce. . .hmmm, probably a bad idea.

Speaking of Kate, she entered the room now and Jack's face glowed. She was truly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and the sight of her belly just beginning to round as she carried his child filled him with awe.

"What'd I miss?" she asked looking around the room at these people who had come to be like family to her.

"Not a thing," Jack said, scooting over to make room for her on the couch beside him. "Nobody's scored and the Sox are up to bat."

"Defensive battle, then," Kate said, sitting down and taking Jack's hand to place it on her belly. "He's kicking, you feel it?"

"Yeah," Jack said, filled with wonder at his good fortune.

After his recovery from the most recent surgery, Jack reordered his priorities and decided – after all the pain and suffering – that if he and Kate were going to fill those four bedrooms at the top of the stairs with rugrats who would eventually slide down that banister as Kate had envisioned on her first day in the house – he wanted more time with them than his surgery schedule would have allowed. So, he looked into other areas of medicine, after all. And settled on pediatrics, which had required a bit of retraining but had been well worth it.

Overcoming every single obstacle seemed worth it now. Just as it had on that day in March when Kate had stood at the top of those stairs in a white dress looking down at him with love sparkling in her eyes, and he'd realized that despite all those jokes Sawyer had made the night before about the old ball and chain, he and Kate had finally broken free of the past and all that had held them before.

They'd never be lost and alone again.

The End


End file.
